Brother
by Spotofpaint
Summary: Nothing should be able to come between the unbreakable bond of brothers. Whether that bond is between America and Canada, or Prussia and Germany, or perhaps even the bond between "brothers" meaning simply, one another. But when a dooming message is given to the countries from the future concerning WWIII, things get a little hectic. Will the nations all come together as brothers?
1. A is for America! And Alfred!

**Brother**

A Hetalia fanfiction written by Artiluna55 and Spotofpaint

Authors note: This was originally an RP (role play) between Artiluna55 and myself. As such, the story doesn't quite read in the usual flow of some of my other works, or Artiluna's for that matter. Please keep that in mind as you work your way through. Also, the first few chapters deal with the recently passed presidential election in America. We tried to keep it rather light-hearted and unbiased, but if we ended up stepping on anyone's political toes, well, oh well. Thirdly, anyone who's interested in romance won't find much here. The only pairing we have is Canada and Prussia, and the story is not descriptive of their relations. Our plot is much more revolved around the theme of a looming threat of WWIII and how the countries handle said threat. Last but not least, we felt the need to add a brief disclaimer, mainly for the CIA because there's a lot of talk in here about things like blowing up Canada and America and the possibility of WWIII, etc. So, officially: CIA, this is a fanfiction based on an anime series. Anything written here is NOT meant to be taken seriously. Thank you.

As always, dedicated readers, I'm glad to be back in the game again. Please enjoy!

~Spotofpaint

For those of you readers who are reading my other fanfic posted up on here, this RP kind of took over our lives. Sorry for the delay in my other fanfic. I will post in that one soon. Hope you enjoy this new story.

~Artiluna55

**Chapter 1**

A is for America!

And Alfred!

Alfred reached for the phone. His hand trembled just a bit. Although it was true that he went through this every four years _for hundreds of years,_ he reminded himself, it never made it any easier. He was always in conflict and could never seem to choose a side until that first week in November. It would pass, he knew, but for the meantime it was sometimes nice to unload on someone. Someone who it might be a little funny to torment...just a bit. It would at least relieve some of the tension he'd been feeling. And so, he picked up his cell phone (it was the newest version of the iphone of course, with a ton of apps, and a touch screen and it was smart!) And he called the one person he really could (Other than Matt, who would just bum him out with all his talk about _his_ political set up and how it was better than America's.)

Putting it to his ear, he heard it ring, once, twice, and then someone on the other end picked up.

"Hello?"

"Yo! Arthur! Wassup?"

_Oh great,_ Britain thought to himself.

"I am a little busy right now, America."

He shuffled through some papers on his desk as he tried to put the document he was currently reading back in proper order. With America's elections coming up he had been given report after report after report to read and study. The old island nation had read on both of the candidates and there were plans according to whatever the American populous decided.

Still it was a bloody amount of paper work that had been put on his plate. As such he felt a bit of agitation towards said former colony. Why couldn't he have a king or hold elections further apart, buggar! Everyone was waiting for the decision to be made. Russia was particularly on edge as of late waiting for the decision. He sighed pulling himself from his thoughts and back to the phone conversation,

"Did you need something?"

"Need something? Can't I just call an old friend during a time of turbulence? Is that so much to ask? I mean, I won't even ask you if you think I should increase taxes to alleviate the HUGE hole in my wallet. Or maybe I should fill that hole by eliminating programs, like food stamps, but then I'd have a hole in my stomach too. But don't worry Arty, I won't ask you about any of that. Because I can TOTALLY make up my mind all on my own! HAHAHA!"

As maniacal laughter erupted from his phone Britain found himself quickly pulling the phone away from his ear. He stared at the black phone in his hand and rolled his eyes. He'd forgotten all about this. How had he forgotten? That was unclear. The workload must have gotten to him.

"America..." he said in an exasperated tone. _The git was having his 4 year PMS._ Britain thought to himself, "Are you all right?"

"Totally A-OK. Except sometimes I want to murder Mexico. And other times I want to make sweet love to her. I'm really confused about that actually. But I think it's OK, because sometimes she gives me pot, and then I settle right down."

Britain raised his hand to the bridge of his nose and tried to massage out the tension there. His thick eyebrows were furrowing.

"You're not on pot right now, are you?" He put the document he'd been working with back on his desk. He leaned back in his desk chair. Britain's full attention turned to his former colony.

America didn't need anything else in his system. He already sounded like a raving loon. He looked at his desk calendar. There was only a short time until the election. If he recalled this would keep getting worse.

"Have you been taking care of yourself, Alfred?" There was something the aggravating twit had never been able to do very well, "When's the last time you slept?"

"Slept? Dude, you should know I have no time for that right now. My boss has got me running ragged for this election. I'm campaigning for both sides you know. Here in America, we throw endless parties as an excuse to fund raise and milk every dime we can from all the rich campaign backers. The foods awesome though. I just kinda wish everyone would stop fighting..." A heavy sigh came from the other end of the line. "Parties are a lot more fun when it doesn't end with the cops being called."

"Listen. You get strung out like this every four years. You should know by now that you have to take it easy during this time. You have been independent for 227 years now. You have had more than one election. You should have learned how to take care of yourself in all that time! Take it easy around election days. Call in sick and relax at home before you exhaust yourself."

_Blimey, is he really that young?_ Britain had to remind himself. Just saying that out loud made Britain feel like some ancient dinosaur.

Then Britain had to think to himself, was he lecturing the young chap? True, he loved to lecture the young country in every topic from his independence to his rancid food, but PMS America really was not one to be lectured. Britain knew that as well. _He's having a mid-election crisis and you have to rant, but I cannot think of one supportive thing to say. Buggar._ Maybe that was poor parenting on his part. Then it hit him,

"When is the last time you ate? McDonald's is open all night, right? Go get one of those retched burgers you love so much! It will take your mind off of this election. Get one of those ice cream concoctions as well."

"Oooo! That's a great idea! All the fast food chains here are getting all their holiday flavors out! If I head to Starbucks, I can choose between all the fall flavors, like pumpkin, OR I could get the Christmas flavors, like peppermint! Oh my God! I could mix the two drinks together and have peppermint pumpkin!"

But despite the excitement America was portraying, eating was never something he neglected. He ate when he was happy, sad, partying, or watching a football game. And during elections, a lot of eating occurred _during _arguments. In fact, a lot of groups of friends or even families would go out to dinner with the intention of having a good time and instead end up fighting with one another over their beliefs and viewpoints of the different candidates.  
But America hadn't called Britain to get even more depressed or wound up over things. He'd called to let off steam. So it made more sense to just pretend that things were a little better off than they were.

It was true he'd been through lots of elections before, this would be his 56th, but he never saw a way of making it any easier. People got worked up every single time. As a result, he himself got worked up too. It was very stressful, especially not knowing who his new boss would be or really what to believe. There were always a lot of important topics and decisions to make about the direction he'd be heading in the future. All the same, he always reminded himself, each and every time that if things didn't work out, he'd have a new boss in another 4 years anyway. But...things did always seem ok after the first week of November. He'd just have to stick it out, like a cold.

_There's no way I'll be able to rest like Britain, _he thought._ The people are too wound-up over here. Even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to sleep_. But there was no way he'd be telling Britain that.

"Dude, I'm going to go do just that. A burger'll fix me right up!" He said. And then, before Arthur could object, he hung up.

Britain's chance to retort was cut short when America hung up the phone. The ring tone cut through the silent office, and the sound reminded Britain that his former colony was off, high strung, PMSing, raving mad, and... loose in the general population.

True America had never gotten into any real trouble, but Britain found himself worrying. The last thing he needed was a late night call that the young man had gotten into some bar fight over political view points with one of his crazy citizens overusing their first amendment rights or something. America could get carried away at times.

Britain placed the phone back in its cradle and placed his elbows on the desk. _Bloody hell._ America was loose upon the world. Britain probably should have encouraged the youth to stay at home until his emotions came back under control. Britain's eyes widened in horror when he thought of the PMSing nation driving to the McDonald's. By God! What if he took his motorcycle and crashed it from sleep deprivation?

Arthur reached out snagging the phone back up. This just wouldn't do at all.

Luckily for Alfred, he didn't need to head to another rally for several days. Which was great, because he was still feeling very confused. During one moment, he was a gun toting, boarder protecting republican, then for the next, he was an entitlement program and gay rights activist democrat.

_Oh my God! I won't be able to make up my mind until the people elect someone! GRAH! I'm going crazy! _Deciding it would be best to get outside and get some fresh air after all, America raced out of the white house before he was expected to do anymore campaigning. It was just impossible to expect a country to make up his mind when the population was so divided!

_I'll just head to a nice, normal place. One that doesn't support or oppose any of the hot button topics that have been flying around these days. _Of course, that eliminated half of the fast food chains and restaurants around. Even companies had something to say about politics in the modern age. It was actually, rather ridiculous.

"Wait! I know a place that's neutral! Bars!" That was right. Following all the political propaganda and smear ads that were all over TV, were a third type of ad supporting alcohol as a substitution to picking either side. Alfred wasn't a total moron (even if he could act it sometimes) he knew that picking an alcoholic beverage over a candidate was just idiotic, but the ads had an underlying message that spoke to a lot of Americans who were simply sick of all the disagreements.

_Arthur's right, I just need to relax for a little while. Maybe shoot some pool._ And so, Alfred headed straight to the nearest local bar with a pool hall.

Britain had managed to work a few more minutes, but eventually Britain had phoned Canada. His gut was nagging at him. He wanted someone to watch Alfred, and help take his mind off of the election. Since he lived across the Atlantic it would take hours for him to get to America. It really was not plausible, considering the amount of work he had. He could not blow off so much work just on a whim. He was a nation. He was still cleaning up foreign affairs and dealing with the media and the possible pregnancy of the new princess there was too much work to do here. He couldn't go. Not unless Alfred got into serious trouble.

_Besides,_ he reassured himself. _Its not the first time Matthew has watched his older brother during a tumultuous time._ Matthew had helped Alfred through a civil war (which Britain was ashamed to admit he had helped prolong and had not once visited the boy during despite how sick he'd been), a great depression (he had been there for that one, but it was hard to visit or stay long because of America's policies at the time), and two national crisis's (he hadn't been able to get to America's side for pearl harbor because of the war and his own countries issues, but he had come immediately to help for Sept. 11). Matthew was always the first one at his brother's side because they were in driving distance of each other.

Briatin was starting to feel a bit depressed. Maybe he should visit the young whippersnapper. He wrapped the desk phone cord around his finger as he dialed. He had been told more than once to update the old, archaic device, but he liked this phone. _Damn. Why is it taking so long for Matthew to pick up?_

Matthew's voice finally answered, but Britain recognized the quiet recording, "You've reached Matthew Willams. Sorry I'm not here right now. Please leave a message and I'll call you back soon. Papa. S'il vous plaît arrêter de me dire qui je dois ce jour." Beep (Papa. Please stop suggesting to me who I should date.)

_Double damn._ Britain slammed the phone down. He pushed his thoughts aside and went back to work. _America will be fine_.

~Meanwhile~

The people were gathered in the bar. Many of them trying to escape the craziness of the outside world. Bikers lined stools and smoke filled the room. Groups played pool. The TV blared useless information that no one paid attention to. A few people turned when the 19 year old walked in. They were surprised to see a 'kid' in the bar.

America kicked in the door of the local bar (not to be destructive mind you, but to be dramatic!) And being who he was, he was well-known by a lot of American's, although not all of them. Almost right away he was greeted by several people.

"Hey kid! How's the election trail treating ya?" Spoke up a young man by the bar.

"I dunno Dan, he don't look too good to me?"

"You tired Alfred?" America moved further inside, heading to the group of young men by the bar. The tender was wiping up a small spill down near the other end, but lifted his eyes as Alfred approached. Almost immediately America smiled, after all, was there ever a time when he wasn't smiling?

"I'm just fine guys! Nothing a drink and a game of pool won't fix. How about it? Who's up for some fun?"

"Alfred," the bar tender frowned. "I've told you before, you're too young to drink."

"Eh? Has that stopped me before?" The bar tender placed a glass down on the counter a bit more harshly than necessary, his thick eyebrows lowering.

"If I catch you sneaking drinks I'll have you arrested this time. I'm sick of your games. Now, how would _that_ affect the elections huh? Some bad publicity?"

"Dude!" Alfred raised his hands, waving defensively. "Chill out man. I came here to unwind."

"Bar tender," one of the men said. "Give the kid a break. He's under a lot more stress than you or me. He's technically not allowed to even pick a side. And then when the elections over, he pretty much just has to agree with the new president, regardless."

"Cry me a river," the bar tender grumbled. "I don't care what he's going through he ain't getting a drink in MY bar."

"Ok, ok, sheesh. Can I at least shoot some pool? Is that illegal too?"

"No. But I can think of some other things that _should_ be illegal but aren't. Why aren't you doing more in Washington about gun control Alfred? Hm? My little girl was gunned down in a broad daylight!"

Alfred felt his heart kick into high gear. This was the exact thing he'd been trying to avoid. Everyone had a personal stake in one matter or another, and a touchy subject like gun control was _not_ what he had in mind when he stepped into the bar.

"Watch it bar tender!" One of the men sitting in the stools said, a sour look over coming his face. "If we were allowed to have more guns, maybe someone would have shot that killer before he could hurt someone."

The bar tender's eyes bulged in disbelief.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me!"

"Alfred! You hear this guy? You represent our great country! You set this asshole straight!"

"Well that's too bad, because Alfred's on my side! Aren't you kid?" Now everyone in the bar was staring, and poor Alfred's feet had gone cold. Breaking out into a sweat he struggled to maintain some sort of balance. Swallowing harshly, he looked around at all the faces around him. Then his eyes turned to the open beer that one of the men left carelessly on the bar top. Without even a seconds hesitation he dove for it.

"I choose the fifth!" He cried then grabbed up the freshly opened can and just began guzzling it down.

"HEY!"

"That was my beer you son of a bitch!"

"I told you not to drink in MY bar!" Alfred may not have been as good of a drinker as say Germany or Prussia, but he was decent enough. He finished the beer just before its owners fist punched it right out of his hand. Rather calmly, and not really reacting to the angry faces around him he let out a snort.

"I guess I need another please."

"You're dead meat Alfred."

Suddenly, there was exciting clapping from the doorway of the bar, "Kekekeke! Ze awesome me has to zee this! Birdie! Please! Can we watch? He will get his ass kicked!" A certain albino had a gleam in his red eyes as he strolled into the bar with his friend. "Then we can go find a real bar! We can go back to mine bruder's place!"

Britain had called Canada's phone so many times in the last few hours he was sure the satellites in space were still trying to play catch up. The island nation had bugged him so much about his brother that Canada had turned his phone off some time ago after he'd assured Britain that he would find Alfred. Luckily, Canada had a sixth sense when it came to America. Canada had never had a hard time locating his brother. Probably because even though they were different, they were still connected and close. It must have been part of being a twin or something like that or maybe geography?

Canada studied Alfred up and down. Other than seeming a bit confused, he looked ok. At least Canada had made it before any fighting broke out in the bar.

Matthew had really let time get away with him the last few days. He usually tried to keep a closer eye on his brother during election time. Canada had been so busy with work, and a surprise visit from a certain Prussian had completely blown any thought of America's election right out of his mind.

Luckily people in the bar were distracted from pummeling Alfred by the arrival of the two new nations. It was Prussia who was attracting the attention of the bar. He was an albino after all so he did look different. Not to mention the former nation had a specific aura about him that no one could miss.

"Ke? Let's go back to my bruder's place, birdie! America can get drinks there with ze awesome me!" He looked back at America with a cocky grin on his face, "You canz have real beer zere. Not this unawesome stuff here!"

Matthew shot a sideways frown at Prussia,

"Can you please stop calling me Birdie!" It was a familiar request. He'd been asking Prussia that question for the past two days so he wouldn't be surprised when Prussia kept using the ridiculous nickname.

He quickly turned his attention back to his brother. Matthew walked through the bar and put his hand on his brother's shoulder. Then he looked around the bar at all the angry people occupying the area.

"Al…. Let's go back to your house." He said in his quiet tone. He didn't want to be caught in a bar fight. This was ridiculous. "I can pay for whatever he drank. In fact I can buy everyone a drink if everyone can settle down. I'll take my brother home." The soft spoken nation didn't seem like a threat at all and luckily the people of the bar seemed appeased.

"Oh! The awesome me loves that idea, Birdie! Beer is almost as awezome as me! Even if zis American stuff is for Schwächlinge (weaklings)." Prussia happily responded to Matthew's offer by heading to the bar for a drink. Matthew rolled his eyes as his friend sat down at the bar,

"Gilbert! Are you going to walk to Alfred's house? We have to go. You can drink later." That got a frown on the albino's face, "Totally unawesome, birdie!" He got up and went to walk back towards the North America brothers. Prussia stared at America with a firm frown, "How'z it going, loser? Your daddy called uz to come get you."

Alfred was pretty glad to see Canada, he could definitely use some company, but was fairly UN-glad to see Prussia. And due to all the stress he'd been under the UN-gladness completely outweighed the glad…gladness. Immediately woes about gun control, abortion, gay rights, and the Mexican border disappeared as he laid his blue eyes on the albino invader. Immediately, Alfred marched away from the bar and instead toward Gilbert.

"Dude…what the hell is this trash doing on MY soil!?" He demanded. He whipped his glare around to Matt, eyes gleaming. "Did you bring him hear?" But before Matt had a chance to answer, he was already facing Prussia once more. "What was that about American beer? That sounded like a challenge to me, and I don't back down from challenges, no matter how ridiculous they may be! You wanna go? How about a drinking contest, man?"

"Alfred!" The bar tender suddenly hollered. "How many times do I got to tell you, you're 19! You're going to get me arrested!" America, of course, completely ignored the man. He was wound up from stress, and he needed a release somewhere. If he couldn't get a drink or play pool, well, then a fight wasn't sounding so bad, especially if he got to sock Prussia one right in the face.

"I'm NOT in the mood Gil! I'm this close to saying to HELL with diplomacy! I know you think you're awesome, but America is even MORE awesome! And if you want to tango, well…I've got a republican in me that's just itching to come out!" America was looking just a tad unhinged at that point, and it became evident, even to Prussia that perhaps the stress was finally getting to him. His right eye started twitching.

The Teutonic knight in Prussia was always ready for a fight. The albino had never been one to back down, ever. His pride wouldn't allow a challenge to go unanswered. Especially when beer was involved,

"Ze awzome me willz take you anytime, kid! You seem to be too little to drinkz in your home. Why not come to mine home? I'll show you real beer!" He let out one of his unique laughs and jibed, "I was drinking beer before you were a thought! I will take Canada's bruder anytime!" He let out a short laugh. Prussia smirked as his red eyes narrowed in anticipation of Alfred's response.

Off behind Alfred, Matthew could tell this conversation was going downhill fast. He wasn't particularly pleased with either Prussia or America at the moment, but he was trying not to be upset with his brother. Alfred always had 'issues' around election days, and, of course, America would be shocked at finding Prussia in his homeland. The two of them were _far_ from friends.

And then there was another small matter…. Matthew had yet to tell any of his family members that he was pretty good friends with the former nation. He had met Prussia at one of the world meetings a while ago.

Matthew also hadn't told his family that for the past year Prussia routinely showed up at his home in Ottawa demanding homemade pancakes and maple syrup. He also hadn't mentioned that Prussia would stay in the guest room for days on end... Nope, especially didn't tell them that. So of course finding Prussia standing in a bar on his home soil would be strange for Alfred. Matthew had tried to get Gilbert to leave for Germany at the beginning of this debacle, but Gilbert had refused. Being in a rush Canada had just brought him along.

Matthew was also concerned about another thing in this situation. Matthew didn't need his overprotective brother meddling in his foreign affairs or worse trying to protect him in this matter. An overprotective America was an unhinged America, and he knew that Alfred would be worried sick if he found out his calm, gentle, and subservient 'little' brother had Prussia of all nations staying at his house about... how often was it? At least once a month? Alfred tended to forget that Canada could handle himself.

Matthew knew most every nation found Prussia loud mouthed, agitating, mean, at times unstable, and other times downright dangerous. Prussia didn't have the best history after all. How many times had the former nation 'invaded a nations private regions?' Isn't that what papa France said at one of the former world meetings?

_Yeah._ Matthew thought to himself, _How do you break that to your over protective brother? The self proclaimed hero would have a hissy fit. Hey Alfred, you know what they say about Prussia, eh? We're really good friends now! He's staying at my place!_

It wasn't only Alfred though. He hadn't told Britain or France about Prussia either. The rest of the world also found Canada quiet, meek, invisible, and they had mostly seemed to have forgotten that he was able to fight and protect himself if he needed to. He could fight. He just didn't find the need to fight all that often. Hell the rest of the world routinely forgot he existed, but the loud, foul mouthed albino never had. He'd also never confused Canada with America. That was something that even Matthew's two fathers messed up sometimes.

Matthew was worried that his family would misconstrue his friendship with Prussia. He could easily see his family accusing the Albino of bullying him into something, and that was far from the true circumstances. If Britain, America, and France thought Prussia was giving him grief then that could spell trouble for Germany too. Not wanting to deal with the fall out, Matthew had kept the friendship to himself.

Now Prussia was here. So how could he make this work to his favor? He was in the middle of thinking out a plan when Prussia opened his mouth.

Gilbert was completely unaware that Canada was hiding their friendship from America. As such Gilbert blurted out, "Ze awezome me does not want to be here, wiz the unawsome you! I should be at your Bruder's house having mine way. The awesome me likes Birdie's house. I would be making Birdie cook pancakes! If it werez not for you, kid!" Prussia crossed his arms over his chest in huff.

Well… there went that cover. Matthew's eyes rolled. Gilbert couldn't have phrased that sentence and made it sound any worse than it did. _I just had my Canadian slave make me pancakes, and I get my way at his home._ Matthew's anger flared,

"DAMNIT GILBERT!" Even at a full scream Matthew's voice was still small and barely carried through the bar.

At first, for a few seconds it seemed, America didn't move. He stood in something close to shock. "You…h…having your _way?_" His face tensed, a quick snarl came over his lips. His fingers curled. But despite that, for a brief moment, it looked like he was actually trying to control himself. Glancing to the side, he concentrated on his breathing. And for just a second it appeared as if he were rationalizing with himself. But then, out of nowhere…

CRACK! His fist flew forward in a nice right hook, his knuckles digging into the pale countries skin. And of course, as soon as that first punch was thrown, the gloves were off. The bar patrons erupted into cheers as a quick crowd gathered around, and before they could even fully assemble, America had rushed forward again, grabbing onto Prussia's collar, dragging him in close to his infuriated face.

(Enter Republican mode. The Battle Hymn of the Republic starts to play in the background. The American flag waves for Albert's speech!)

"You son of a bitch! Matt's my little bro! And if you think I'll just stand by and let you take advantage of him, well then think again! You're nothing! You don't even fucking exist! You're a dead country man! And I don't think I'll have any trouble defeating a country that's already been defeated! You're nothing! You're a ghost! And NOBODY messes with America's friends! NOBODY! You poked a bear dude! And I don't need to hold back fighting you, because there's not even a risk of starting up a war! Because you're already a dead nation! Asshole!"

Having completely lost it, America was clearly ready to go all out. He brought back his fist a second time, preparing for another well placed boxing punch. Being the number one boxer out of all the countries in the world (and it's not even a close call) America was more than prepared for some skin.

Prussia was dazed from the right hook, but he had been fighting wars long before America. He'd dealt with wins, loses, occupation, and pain far worse than a right hook. He spit out the influx of blood in his mouth onto the bar floor. He'd also been brawling in bars long before the stupid kid in front of him. He pulled his knees up to slam into America then kicked out harshly to push himself free.

"Bring itz on unawesome!" Prussia snarled as he took a stance in the bar.

"Gilbert! I swear if you fight him I will never, NEVER make you ANYTHING! Ever EVER!" Matthew tried to defuse the tense situation.

"Sorry Birdie!" Prussia smirked, "He started it! Dur Bruder asked for this!"

" Merde!" (Damn it) Canada cried out again. How had things fallen apart so fast!? Alfred was about to kill.

Prussia turned his attention from America and was reaching out to grab a glass bottle off of a nearby table.

This was going to hell in a hand basket! Damn!

Canada rushed forward and stepped in front of his advancing, crazed brother planting his feet firmly on the floor. He wasn't going to be budged. He reached out grabbing onto America's shoulders with intensity. He stared into his brother's blue eyes with eyes that were nearly identical and quietly demanded,

"Alfred. Stop!" Which might have worked…if a glass bottle hadn't come crashing down on Matthew's skull at just about the same time. Prussia's eyes widened having realized his mistake too late.

"BIRDIE!" Prussia cried as his friend went crashing to the floor. The overzealous Prussian hadn't been paying attention and had struck out at what he assumed would be the advancing America.

America probably would have stopped to listen to his brother. If anyone could stop America, it was Canada.

"Matt, what're you…" But then, glass came down, shattering. America watched in horror as his little brother's eyes rolled back in his skull. He wobbled once and then collapsed with a thud at America's feet.

"MATT!" Alfred quickly fell to his knees beside him, worry stamped across his face. Reaching out he shook him harshly. "Matt! Matt!" But of course, he didn't stir. Canada was out cold. With a well placed hit like that, it was no wonder.

America sat with his twin for just a few seconds. His arms began to tremble as he fell silent. The trembling spread through his body as anger began to build. A fire bloomed within. A few seconds more and he was seething, unable to contain his fury. Lifting his head, he glared hatefully Prussia's way.

"You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you!" Gently, he lay his younger brother on the floor, then rose to his feet. Stepping over him, he lifted his fists. The bar patrons whooping and hollering, they cheered him on.

"Get em Alfred!"

"That counties no match for America!"

"Republicans and Democrats can both agree on that!"

America was never a very good listener to begin with, and at this point, he was way past the point of listening to anyone. He lunged, cracking knuckles into more flesh. He was fully ready to beat Prussia into unconsciousness.

Prussia was wide eyed as he stared at the down Canadian.

"Ma-Matthew!" He let the rest of the shattered bottle fall out of his hand. He hadn't meant to whack his friend on the noggin.

"Wa-wait!" He raised his hands up in defense. He had lost the urge to fight, and wanted to aide his friend, "Your bruder needz ice! I needz to get 'em ice!"

He kept his arms up to protect himself, "America! Listen!" Of course that wasn't going to work. So unable to reason with the enraged America, Prussia prepared to fight or more so defend himself from the onslaught.

America wasn't about to let up. He'd been pushed and pushed and pushed even before Prussia arrived and started insulting him. And now, he was passed the point of no return. Over stressed, over tired, and having been deeply insulted was more than enough, but seeing Canada hurt was the last straw.

"Bastard! Ass!" He continued to pummel him, one fist over the other, backing him up against the wall. Reaching out, he grabbed him by his collar. Much, much stronger than he appeared, he hoisted him up into the air with ease. Breathing heavily, and breaking out into a sweat, he glared at him.

"What were you doing with my little bro? What was that crack about getting your way? HMM?! Did you TOUCH my bro?! I'll fucking kill you!"

Already breathing heavily and sweating profusely, his face gradually started to grow pale. The hands he used to grip Prussia, already trembling from rage, began to tremble a bit more. His breath quickened, and he started to appear a bit clammy.

"Get 'em Alfred!"

"Show that jerk the strength of America!"

Prussia's red eye twitched at the question. It was neither a declaration of having done something or a statement of innocence. Maybe, it was intent of something he wanted.

Either way the question went unanswered. Prussia reached up grabbing onto Alfred's hands trying to relieve the pressure he was feeling on his collar. His face was bloodied, but he was nowhere near giving in. He'd had plenty worse than this.

Then Prussian felt a smirk engulf his face, and a large toothy grin appeared on his bloodied, pale features. Prussia knew the North America twins fought over who was older. He had heard Canada complain about it on more than one occasion, but nonetheless a bruder was a bruder. Prussia had raised Germany from a young child. Now he lived in his house. Caring for a brother was something Prussia could relate with the American on. As such he didn't want America to worry about his brother's safety, "Ze awezome me iz awezome friends wid birdie. Dine bruder is fine."

America gripped Prussia a bit more firmly, but not because he was any more angry than before. In fact, his grip increased because he was suddenly feeling weaker, and he didn't want to lose his hold on Prussia, not after what he'd just said. After hearing something like that, America needed to look him in the eye and size him up.

"Friends?" He questioned. He didn't want to believe him because he was so wrapped up in his anger, but…he couldn't help but to remember Matt's face right before he was knocked out. He'd been trying to stop him. He'd been concerned. That…and even the awful Prussia had seemed upset that he'd accidentally hit Matt instead of America.

"That thing…about pancakes…"

A slight headache started to build up behind his eyes, a gentle throbbing making itself known. But there was no way he was going to appear weak in front of an enemy. Not until he cleared up this whole thing about Prussia and Matt.

"Matt DID seem like he didn't want me to fight you…even though you're a giant ass face." Prussia suddenly started to feel a lot heavier. Afraid of dropping him, and his arms starting to shake, America decided to release him. Putting him down, his chest suddenly started to feel tight.

_Weird…what happened to my usually freakishly strong strength_? He thought to himself. The fight now winding down, it was odd that America was only seeming to sweat more, his face paling further.

"Dude's…is it hot in here?"

"Ze awezome me iz fine." Standing on his feet again Prussia looked around America to his unconscious friend on the floor. "…Crap…" He said under his breath. He'd never hear the end of this. "I hopez he waz lying about ze pancakes. He makez them best. With ze maple syrup stuff…." Prussia looked around the bar, "I needz ice." Physical injuries healed quicker with nations than normal humans. Only things directly affecting their country could really keep them down or took long periods of time to heal, but being a 'human' pain or a 'nation' pain ice would help either way. Prussia blew by America's side. He kept his distance so America couldn't stop him. Then he knelt down and gently shook Matthew's shoulder,

"Birdie. Zorry." Of course the unconscious Canadian didn't stir, but it was the apology that counted. Right? So there it was.

"Hmmm." Prussia looked back up at America, "Unawesome. We canz take him to your place, right? I can help…. Unawesome?" That's when Prussia realized what America actually looked like at the moment. He looked ill. He was sweating and pale and was he jittery? No. He was shaking. What was wrong with the super power?

Prussia looked down at his unconscious friend on the floor. Truly he didn't have many friends left. France. Spain. Germany...Italy. At times they tended to forget him as well. No one bothered with him anymore. Nations didn't seem to care about those who had long since fallen from grace. He had taken an interest in the quiet Northern country because Canada seemed genuinely interested in him even if he was no longer a country. He felt wholeness when he was with Matthew. He hadn't felt in a long time. So he held his friendship with Canada in high regard. Whenever he felt himself getting down he'd fly to Canada's house for company and the pancakes didn't hurt. He'd been making the trip more and more often, as of late.

He was the one who had knocked Matthew out. Matthew had come all this way to take care of his bruder. The least he could do was to make sure America was ok in his absence. He turned his red eyes back to America, "Whatz wrong? You don't look zo good. Maybe I should use Birdie's car to take you both home. Is da beer getting to you, kid?" Truly he had not meant to be insulting with the last line.

"I don't feel as amazing as usual…" America finally admitted. "Is something going on?" Of course, everyone in the bar knew what the problem probably was. One of the men gestured to the bar television which currently had the news on.

"Hurricane Sandy, kid. Did you forget? We've been preparing for it for over a week. It made landfall in Jersey and is heading up to New York City." Alfred let out a groan of dismay. Of course he had known all about it too. It was one of the biggest news stories other than the election at the moment. But with all the heat he'd been under, he'd briefly forgotten.

"Crap." He let out a long heavy sigh. Every country knew what a hurricane meant. Natural disasters were something most of them dealt with from time to time. Some were far worse than others. At least with hurricanes a lot of the time people could prepare, because it was well known that it was coming. It was far better to have a hurricane than say a major earthquake or mudslide, or God forbid…a volcano.

"I almost totally forgot, the boss gave me the next few days off from campaigning because of Sandy. I was so eager to get out and blow off steam that I forgot…" Hurricanes seemed to manifest themselves as a cold or illness: a gradual onset, and lasting several days. But it was never anything too traumatic…with exception of a few really big, bad ones. America shuddered for a moment in recalling Katrina.

"Sorry for beating you snotless Gil. Even though you DID deserve it…butt face." Glancing at Matt, sweat starting to roll down his skin, he thought that the first best thing was to take care of his little brother. "I guess I can take you up on your offer. We need to take care of Matt…" But even as he was speaking, it was clear his illness was getting worse. His golden eyebrows creased together as his headache started to get far worse. It throbbed and pounded behind his eyes. "Ugh…" For a brief second, the world swam. He stumbled once, but then caught himself. Stretching out a hand, he leaned on the nearest table. Suddenly embarrassed more than anything else, he glared Prussia's way.

"I could still kick your ass, ghost nation!"

Prussia let America's comments go. He could always get him back later.

"Ok. I can get Birdie. You got urzelf?" Prussia looked the unconscious Canadian over. Canada was wearing his normal, long brown jacket. Prussia had no shame diving through Canada's pockets for the car keys. It seemed he might have done this before because he went straight to the pocket where the Canadian kept his keys. Quickly he let the metal ring slide onto his pointer finger and held it up for America to see,

"Same place as ze last time. We canz go."

He carefully slid his arms beneath Canada's neck and the bend in Canada's knees. With a bit of concentration he lifted the unconscious Northern brother up off the floor. He held him carefully trying to keep his head from moving around much. Then he made a note of something else,

"Geeze Birdie. You weigh less than last time." Prussia sighed. When Prussia looked back at America he could tell the other brother was more than a bit curious about what he had just said. So as he walked up to America he quickly added, "I took him out drinking at mine place. It waz awezome! Germany was there and Italy fed us pasta. Canada didn't handle the alcohol so well…. I had to drive him home in ze rental car. He didn't tell you? He waz hungover foreverz. It was so unawezome."

Prussia frowned. He was quickly coming to the conclusion that Canada had kept America completely in the dark about how often they'd been seeing each other. He was the awesome Prussia, damn it! Not some unawezome secret to be hidden away. Obviously this was something they'd need to talk about when Canada woke up.

"Can you make it America or do I needz to come back? Kumajiro is in the car. Ztupid bear. He'll probably bite me again now that Birdie is out." The red eyed Prussian shuddered a bit. He did not like that bear.

"I can make it to the car myself, thanks…" Alfred grumbled, feeling a bit pissy. He certainly didn't want any help from Prussia, even if he _did_ need the help. But more than that was this entire relationship revelation. Why would Matt keep all this a secret? And why would he want to be friend with Prussia of all countries? And how long had this been going on? And were the two of them really just friends? The way Prussia was acting made him think…something that was often times very difficult for America to do.

Instead of saying something right away, Alfred concentrated on following Prussia out to the car. He already missed his usual endless amounts of energy. Instead of bounding out of the bar, unstoppable and a stupid grin on his face, he found himself unsteady and weak. Sweat dripped from his jaw line, but oddly enough despite a growing fever…he was starting to feel cold.

_Crap. This is already worse than an average hurricane…_ Once outside, America spotted Canada's usual car, an American made car, because Canada had yet to create even a single car company for itself. It was a small four door and seeing Kumajiro and luggage in the backseat meant all three men would need to cram into the front.

Alfred headed to the passenger's side, already knowing he wouldn't be able to drive, which sucked, because man, he LOVED driving. He loved cars. Fast cars. Sports cars. Red cars. And as always a good Mustang! But of course, Canada's car wasn't all that exciting anyway. It was something a mom might buy. Grabbing the door handle, Alfred found that his grip was already severely weakened. He managed to open the door, but not without some effort. Slipping in and sitting down, he quickly pulled his jacket in more tightly around his body and zipped it completely up. Shivering, his face white and his eyes red, he glanced to Prussia and held out his arms for Matt.

"Give 'im to me. I'll hold him while your drive."

"Zu look like hell, America." There were a thousand insults running through the Prussian's mind, but somehow he found restraint and didn't utter one. _Canada's made me soft! _The Prussian thought in horror. He transferred the Northern twin over to the Southern twin and closed the car door.

Once in on the other side he jammed the car keys into the ignition when a curious bear poked his head in between the driver and passenger seat. First looking at his master who he tended to forget at times, sniffing America, and then growling at the Prussian before settling in the back seat.

"Stupid lunatic bear." Prussia grumbled under his breath. Then a huge grin came over his face, "I luv ze driving!" Gilbert slammed his foot onto the gas and away the car flew. The speed flung America back into his seat.

What the unconscious Canadian couldn't tell his brother was that he did not trust Prussia to drive ever again. **Ever**. Once had been bad enough. There was one main reason for the driving restriction. One: Prussia suffered a severe case of road rage. Two: was that some roads in Germany didn't have speed limits. Prussia seemed to only accept the untrue fact that all roads had no speed limit. So the albino flew through a 35mph residential area somewhere along the speed of 90mph.

"What is this mph!? Iz zo unawezome! Itz kph!" He said as he made a sharp turn. "So America where iz ur home? Your bruder did not tell me."

Poor Alfred had already been through so much, now he was suffering a minor heart attack on top of it all. His organs shot down to his back and guts as the speed of the drive startled him. Reaching out, he grabbed a hold of the "oh shit" handle, his other hand gripping his little bro to make sure he wasn't flung into the back with his bear.

"For God's sake slow the fuck down you extinct dinosaur!" Already having trouble breathing, this little episode simply made it worse. He started to wheeze, audibly so.

"The speed limit here's 35 bro! We do that for a reason! You're gunna get caught by the cops!" And speak of the devil, some blue and white lights suddenly started to flash behind them. A siren wailed.

"Crap! Crappity crap crap!"

Prussia laughed in a lunatic way, "Kekeke! Don't worry Amerika! I canz handle thiz."

"Oh my head…" The Canadian groaned in his brother's lap. He raised his hand to his aching head. He opened his eyes a small slit, and then they widened with horror when he realized that his car was in motion. His eyes widened further still when he realized he was in his brother's lap, and he could hear Prussia laughing from the driver's seat.

"OH MY GOD!" Canada cried in quiet horror, "Gilbert! Pull the car over!" He could feel the speed of the car, and it was terrifying. Canada looked up at his brother, "Al!" He reached up putting his hand firmly on his ailing brother's shoulder.

"Oh Birdie! Yourz awake!" The Prussian cried happily as he swerved the car around another bend.

Immediately, Alfred's stomach turned along with the car. His pale face became a quick, sickly green.

"Ugh…ooo…dude…stop the car…" He groaned in misery. Gasping for breath, he was surprised to find that Prussia actually listened…but probably due to Matt's request other than his. The car swung onto the side of the road, the cop stopped behind them. The officer stepped up to the passenger's side first and just as he approached the car, Alfred flung open the door, leaned out of it and then he promptly vomited all over the police man's shoes.

Feeling quite wretched, he glanced upward once he was done. A very angry officer glared down at him. Alfred chuckled weakly.

"Good even'n officer."


	2. It Sucks Getting Sick!

**Chapter 2**

Getting Sick Sucks!

Needless to say, all three countries ended up in an American jail cell for reckless endangerment (and soiling an officer). But because they were countries, and their crime wasn't severe, they were simply put in a holding cell together. There were no beds in a holding cell, and during that time America fell incredibly ill. It was nothing life threatening, but enough to make his existence quite wretched. Mattew had helped lay him down on the cold stone floor, and the prison guard was actually kind enough to offer him a blanket.

"Britain called; he's on his way to come get you. You'll get a proper bed soon," the officer said. America didn't respond. Sweating bullets, he shivered on the floor. He pulled the blanket in tighter around himself. Wheezing heavily, a violent coughing fit suddenly escaped him. Lifting a hand, he instinctively covered his mouth, but even so, it sounded awful. The coughing fit wracked his already weakened body.

"Ughh…like…I need Arthur…worrying…over a…little hurricane…"

"Mom's like that." Matthew said with humor in his voice. He sat on the cold floor and pulled his brother's head into his lap to make him more comfortable, "You'll be ok, lil bro." He patted Alfred on his head trying to bring him comfort within the confines of the cell. Matthew had done this more than once in his lifetime, "We'll get you home soon." Kumajiro came over the North American twins and settled down next to America on the floor. Canada was happy that America could find a bit of additional warmth this way.

Across the jail cell Prussia sat staring at his Canadian friend with a depressed look on his face. Every time he went to open his mouth and tried to say something Canada would glare daggers at him. He really hadn't meant to cause any trouble for Canada. Unable to think of anything he wanted to say within America's earshot he had fallen somewhat silent.

"Britain called me." Canada said as he placed his hand on his brother's forehead, "He was worried about you this morning. He wanted me to keep an eye on you until he got here. I'm sorry Alfred. I should have come sooner. I just lost track of time because somebody side tracked me." Canada said the last line with a bit of anger in his voice.

"I didnz know it waz a bad time. You didnz zay…" Prussia said matter of factly, but once again Canada glared at him. Prussia let out a frustrated huff as he looked away from Canada and America.

Alfred chuckled a bit, but the laughter turned into another wrack of coughing. Luckily, it didn't last as long as the initial one.

"You…you're the little…bro, bro," he said. He let his blue eyes flutter closed a bit, just to rest. "New York…is always getting me into trouble, hah." He concentrated on breathing, which was a bit difficult simply due to the fact that he was so damned cold. "This election…it's tough this year. People…people are fired up more than usual…" Wincing, he turned his head to the side to cough again, making sure not to cough in Canada's face, even though it wasn't something another country could contract. His body tightened for the fit, but then he relaxed again once it was over.

"Jersey and New York lost power…how're they gunna keep warm in thirty degree weather?" Sighing he opened his eyes to glance at his twin. "Guess that's why I'm so cold." He sighed again. "Stupid Arthur's gunna freak…"

"Your people will make it. We haven't always had electricity, remember? My people made it through many cold winters without power and so did yours. They'll be ok. They're Americans. They're tuff." Canada gave the small speech in hopes of cheering his brother up.

Canada turned his attention from his brother as he heard someone quickly jogging down the hallways that lead to the holding cell. A moment later a khaki wearing, green sweater vest, white button up shirt Britain came to a screeching halt just outside of the holding cell.

"My God! What the bloody hell has been going on!? I got a call just as I touched down! America! My God! You look horrid! Canada! Are you ok? Let's get you two home…." Britain's emerald eyes grew huge when he laid eyes on the albino in the corner of the cell. "What the bloody hell is that git doing here!?"

"He was with me when this started." Canada groaned trying to avoid the subject of Prussia, "Please can we go. We can talk about it later. Alfred's getting worse. We should really get him home and in a real bed."

Britain stood at the jail cell like an over protective parent. He motioned the guard to let the two younger nations out. He could have cared less about Prussia. In fact he had a slight hatred for the albino, but he let it go in favor of getting to his two former colonies. As soon as the door opened he was in the cell fussing, "I told you to take care of yourself! You twit! Now look at you! Let's get you home." Canada and Britain worked together to help get America off of the floor. The two nations struggled a bit… America wasn't a light weight by any means.

America managed to stand up with the help of having one country under each arm, but moving him to an upright position seemed to make breathing a lot more painful. He winced, but was too proud to cry out. Instead, he forced a stupid grin to his face and offered Canada a wink.

"Damn straight we're tough," he said. "It's just a hurricane. And this is nothing like Katrina. And New Yorkers…are…the toughest of all!" But of course, America said that about a lot of people from a lot of states. He'd said it about Texans, and Georgians, …not Californians though. They were wusses.

"Normally I'd make fun of your tea Arty, but…I could really…use some…right about now." Burning up and his face impossibly white, it looked as if he were about to simply collapse. Luckily, his family was there to help him.

"My God. You must be hallucinating." Britain gasped as he walked with America and Canada. "Hold yourself together, boy."

Mean while Prussia briskly walked ahead of the slower group. He raised his hand and Canada's car keys jingled, "I still haz birdie's car keyz!"

"Give those back!" Canada yelled.

"Birdie?" Britain gawked at the nickname. _Why would Prussia call Canada such a ridiculous thing?_ Then Britain's eyes grew huge, "I am riding in no car that arse is driving! He'll kill us all."

"You're not driving, Gilbert! Ever! I already made that clear!" Canada said it loudly to make sure it sunk into Prussia's thick skull. Matthew also wanted to reassure his two family members that they would get to Alfred's home safely, "I'll drive. Arthur you ride in the back with Alfred. Gilbert you can have the passenger seat. Gilbert, you can hold Kumajiro."

"Ze BEAR!? Birdie! No! Totally unawezome!" Prussia cried, but he was cut short when Canada gave him the look. Prussia grumbled but he went back towards Canada and handed over the car keys. Prussia knew that Canada had brought his hockey stick. The quiet Canadian could be a bit vicious if he wanted too, and Prussia didn't want to ignite his wrath. A few minutes later they were all piling into Canada's car for the ride home. Britain sat in the back seat with Alfred's head in his lap and America's legs sprawled out on the seat. Prussia sat in the front seat. The albino was on edge as he held his friend's polar bear in his lap. Luckily, the ride home was uneventful except every now and then Prussia would curse saying the bear had tried to bite him.

Canada drove cautiously towards his brother's home; occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror at his brother. Soon he was parking in America's driveway, "Come on Al. This is nothing." Canada said as he helped Britain get the ill nation out of the car and to his feet. True Canada had seen his brother in much worse conditions, but Matthew never liked seeing his brother ill, period. The new American recession had given Alfred numerous colds over the past few years that Canada had watched his brother suffer through.

"We'll get you to bed, lad. I'll make you some tea. If that's what you want." Arthur patted America on the back reassuringly, "You'll be up and about in no time."

Once they got America into bed Britain disappeared downstairs into the kitchen, Prussia had wandered off to the guest room, and Canada sat on the bed next to his brother, "Even superman has an allergy." Matthew knew his brother hated being anything less than in perfect health, and Matthew also knew Alfred hated being viewed as anything other than a strong hero. So he tried to lift his brother's spirits, "You'll be back up in a few days. The election will be over, and you will be fine. Maybe you can take a mini vacation."

"You got that right, bro," America agreed. He loved the idea of a vacation. And American's were just the super best at vacations. They had Disney Land, and the best beaches out of anyone! And then of course there was Atlantis, and Las Vegas. Although…in recent years, mostly since the recession, a lot of people didn't get the vacation time they once did. A lot didn't even get off for major holidays like Christmas.

Alfred knew his heath hadn't been the best since 2007, but he also knew it would get better. He was the best country in the world after all. And the strongest! No natural disaster or recession would take him down. God no. It wouldn't even come close. The only time he could remember ever really being worried was during the civil war, and the great depression. Those were the only two times in his entire history when he just wasn't sure if he'd make it. And so, colds and illnesses be damned. He knew he'd come back stronger than ever before, the way he always did. Grinning his usual self-confident grin, he lifted a fist into the air from his reclined position.

"Stars and Stripes forever bro! Rock on!" Coughing again, he lowered his hand. He wondered briefly about his health care system. Until the election was over, no one knew what the hell was going on with it. But that was ok…America knew what to do.

"Matt…" he croaked in a weak, sad sounding, little voice. "…come closer…" Canada, concerned for his brother and his suddenly seeming weakened state, did indeed lean in a little closer. America looked to him, his face still sweaty and pale.

"…closer…" he whispered. Matt did as told, leaning in even further still.

"…closer…" America beckoned. This time, Matt leaned his face just near America's, eagerly awaiting his urgent message, whatever it may be. America turned his head, very seriously held his brothers gaze. Then he opened his mouth and said:

"Get me triple cheeseburger with extra mayonnaise. It's the only way I'll survive!"

Canada fell back away from his brother. An exasperated face quickly took over Canada's face. For a moment it looked like he may scold his brother for being so ridiculous, but then he laughed at America. Canada reached out and reassuringly patted his brother on the shoulder. He excused himself and went to go find the triple cheeseburger.

It was some time later that Britain came upstairs and sat with Alfred. He looked like he was seriously considering something and then he turned to his sick former colony.

"I brought you tea, lad. You'll be up in no time. You don't have any tea cups Alfred. You should really clean your kitchen as well." _Damn! Lecturing again!_ Britain thought in agitation. "I took some time off to stay with you. I will be here for a couple of days. So I can help you through the election and this hurricane business. I believe your brother is staying as well. Although, I have not figured out why that dead bastard is here. Why did he have business in Canada? Was he there on business for Germany for some reason? Do you know?"

After 20 questions and no real answers the brooding English gent finally stopped questioning Alfred. He looked huffy and agitated but eventually he let it drop. Thus the days passed and the four nations settled into America's house. Since Alfred was stuck in bed time seemed to pass slowly. Canada and Britain rotated turns staying with their ailing family member.

Britain settled into the large guest room upstairs to be close to America. Canada also took a smaller guest room upstairs. Prussia on the other hand took one of the many guest rooms downstairs to keep his distance from Britain, but Prussia spent an odd amount of with Canada. Britain noticed the two were together almost every moment when Canada wasn't entertaining America or his father. The English gent couldn't say he was ecstatic to see Prussia at Canada's side either. As time passed Britain found himself trying to keep an ever vigilant eye on the quiet twin and loudmouth Prussian.


	3. Matthew and Gilbert

**Chapter 3**

Matthew and Gilbert

Alfred was seriously ill for a few days. But they all kept a close eye on the news to know when things would take a turn for the better. Finally, the storm passed, but the aftermath of it was fairly horrific. 90% of Long Island had no power, and many families had lost their homes. The shelters were packed full of people who had no other way to stay warm, and the food pantries were empty.

New York City had completely shut down due to flooding. The subway system was underwater, along with the tunnels that lead out of the city. No one went to work. And because the streets were shut down, with trees, water and electrical lines in the way…the gas deliveries weren't getting through to the gas stations. The people began rioting.

Alfred remained ill even after the storm passed because of it all.

"Stop fighting over gas you morons!" He once shouted at the TV screen. But finally, finally, after ten days or so, people began to gradually get their power back. With the water receding, the trains were finally operational again. A few gas deliveries were made although people were still in a shortage, but the worst was over.

And best of all, because Alfred was so sick during that time, he wasn't made to do any more work for the elections. Election day came and went all the same, even though a lot of people in New York had to be transferred to different voting locations than usual due to the power outages. Some people even used the old paper ballots instead of computers! And so, the president was decided upon and by the time he recovered almost all of his woes were over. For the time being. There was still the ever present threat of falling off the fiscal cliff…but America was getting used to having tremendous financial problems, so it wasn't anything new, and he did what he always did with it…completely ignore it.

And so, one day, feeling waaay better, but still not quite a hundred percent, he decided to get up and have some fun. It was hard to be stuck in bed all the time, especially for someone who loved to goof around as much as he did. And so, in the morning, as soon as he got up, he headed to the kitchen where he knew Prussia to be.

Stepping in, fully clothed and looking much more like himself, he marched over to the small kitchenette table where the other country was sitting. Grabbing the other chair and casually spinning it around, America sat down in it backward, crossing his arms over the back of it and leaning inward. He stared at the albino, his expression very serious. Then, without ever taking his eyes away from him, he reached out his hand to Prussia's plate of crêpes. He slid the entire thing away from the country, and then seemingly, out of nowhere, he pulled a Sausage McMuffin out from under his coat and placed it down in its place.

"Peace treaty, ghost nation," he said. "For being so awesome while at my house." But then he leaned in further, his face still deadly serious. "But before we can claim to be neutral dudes, I've got one question you need to answer me first." His blue eyes were sharp as he stared, pointedly.

"…How long have you been doing the nasty with my little bro?"

Prussia was shocked to see the egg McMuffin peace offering. His red eyes were wide and curious, "Where did zu get zat?" He had no idea how America could have gone to McDonald's and back without anyone noticing, but it was early in the morning. Letting the abnormality go Prussia simply stared at the breakfast sandwich with distaste. He was a bit afraid of modern fast food. Luckily he was saved from the sandwich when America asked his question. Prussia turned to stare into America's intense blue eyes. He sized up Canada's brother. Prussia had been a little shocked at the question, but he knew America was a straight forward kind of guy. He was like that himself.

Prussia and Canada had talked about the whole 'Prussia's a secret thing' while America had been under. Prussia understood why Matthew had kept their friendship under wraps for so long, but it was still kind of lame, but at least he and Canada were on good terms again. Prussia wondered for a moment if Canada had also discussed their current relationship with America. A toothy grin took over the Prussian's face. _That must be it._ Prussia thought to himself. _Matthew must have talked to his brother about us. That's why America is mentioning this._ Gilbert believed his relationship with Canada was moving along nicely, but soon a frustrated frown took over Prussia's face. _It's nice but slow._ He thought sarcastically. He let out a snort and looked away from America, "Your bruder has strict border patrols. Far better than yourz. Far better than anybody as a matter of fact. Last time I tried to invade him he hit me with that stupid hockey stick." Prussia sighed again, "Next time I'll have to make sure it's furzer away."

At first America only wrinkled his eyebrows together. He wasn't quite sure he even understood what it was Gilbert had said. Through a thick accent and a plethora of metaphors his little American brain had trouble catching up. But then, finally, he thought he came to a conclusion to as what it was Prussia was saying. Immediately, his blue eyes widened with shock. He stood up abruptly, sliding his chair backward.

"What? What the-DUDE! I was JOKING!" He gaped at the albino, his red eyes suddenly a lot more dangerous seeming than before. America quickly leaned in, planting both hands firmly on the table. "Dude! You mean to tell me you've actually TRIED to sleep with my little bro! Because I'll fucking kill you if you did! And I think Arthur would put a bullet in you too! And France!…well…no…not France…he'd probably congratulate you, but Arthur and I will fucking kill you!" Face growing red, the two countries suddenly found themselves in almost the same exact circumstance they were in a few weeks ago at the bar. And it was then that Alfred remembered why he hadn't killed Prussia to begin with. Matt had said they were friends, in his quiet, Canadian way.

_Oh-My-God! _Alfred's mind whirled. _Are they like…interested in each other? Is MATT into this…this…asshole? _The very idea was enough to suck the wind out of his sails. Because if that was the case…well…then he couldn't just kill Prussia. It would upset Matt.

And so, for the time being, he stood, ridged and at the ready to pounce, but holding back in preparation of Prussia's response. If Gilbert was taking advantage of Matt at all, in any way, Alfred would kill him. But…if they were into each other…

_Oh My God! My country still doesn't even know how they feel about gay marriage! WAAAHHH! What do I do?!_

Prussia looked like he had some witty retort when America got flustered about the current conversation. He was going to congratulate himself in front of America, and rub the current development in America's face. He was the great Prussia after all. He couldn't pass up a chance to gloat. _Let America be pissed_. Prussia smirked. He found it a little funny actually. He could revel in this situation for days to come. Then another thought popped into Gilbert's head. He and Canada had finally gotten on great terms again. This situation could throw a wrench into all that hard work he'd put into getting Matthew to forgive him for the problems he'd caused earlier in the week. Hell, Gilbert had been trying all week to cross the countries defenses. He had come close on more than one occasion. This could really screw it all up. The thought of pissing Canada off again made Prussia's eyebrows lower and crinkle in distaste. Prussia slowly stood up from the table. He raised his index finger into the air and motioned for America to wait,

"Wait. Wait ze minute. Pleaze. I willz be right back." Then he ran out of the kitchen like a flash of white lightning. He almost retreated as fast as Italy in fact. He ran upstairs to the guest room where Canada was currently sleeping. The Northern nation wasn't one to sleep in, but he had stayed up late last night finishing a paper for his boss. As such Matthew was sound asleep when Prussia came quickly walking into the room. Canada was brought back into consciousness when he heard the floor boards of the guest room creak. Matthew opened his eyes with a yawn. The world was a bit fuzzy without his glasses on and he was lying with his back towards the door. Matthew assumed Britain needed something when he heard someone enter his room in the early morning hours. Matthew was in the process of rolling over to face the door when a certain Albino hopped up onto the bed. Gilbert hopped on top of him. With a leg on either side Prussia was sitting squarely on Matthew's stomach. Gilbert stared down at Matthew with intense red eyes while his weight pinned the smaller nation to the bed.

"E-eh!" Matthew let out the Canadian catch phrase as he stared up at the red eyed albino who was currently taking up residence on his stomach. Matthew's face started to turn red as he stared up at Prussia. Prussia had become pretty persistent about bothering Matthew in this particular area over the past few days. Not that Matthew really objected, but Matthew was trying to keep the Prussia situation under wraps until Britain left and he'd left Alfred's. Matthew was hoping to sort this all out when he went home but plans did have a way of falling apart.

"Gi-gilbert!" Matthew hush whispered. Matthew had no clue if anyone else was up at the moment. He didn't want to cause a scene at his brother's house, "Now is not the time for this! I told you we'd settle this when we went back to my house!"

Prussia laughed as he looked down at Canada's face, "But Birdie. I can't wait that long. I think I upset your bruder."

Canada's eyes widened a bit a slight twitch developing in his left eye, "You upset Alfred? What happened!?"

"He asked about us and I told the truth." Prussia said honestly.

"The truth! How much of the truth did you tell!?" Canada cried out in a panicked voice. Canada brought his hands up to his head and gently pulled at his hair. _This could be disastrous_. Canada thought to himself.

"As much as ze awezome me could." Prussia once again answered honestly. He reached out taking a hold of Canada's hands and pulled them away from his blonde hair. Prussia held one of Canada's hands firmly in each of his own. He gently moved Canada's hands away from his head and held them against the mattress effectively holding Canada in place, "Birdie. I needz tha truth from you. Itz not gonna wait. He'z going to askz you."

Canada felt a headache looming. Did he really have to deal with this right now!? Really!? Yes. He liked Prussia! He did, but Britain was going to flip a lid and he really didn't want to deal with Arthur or Alfred at the moment. He balled his hands into fists as aggravation at the situation settled over him. He had just started thinking about how to handle Alfred, but he didn't get deep into thought. He looked towards some far corner of the room staring out at nothing. He had taken his eyes off of Prussia for a moment, and then suddenly he felt lips press firmly against his.

"Hmm! Uhhm!" Matthew's rebuttal was muffled by the lips firmly holding his hostage and the smaller nation started to squirm underneath Prussia. _Damn why is this awesome! Maple! I'm using his vocabulary!_ He was more upset by the fact that he really didn't want to stop it, but he knew he needed too. What if somebody walked in on this? _It's not my house you idiot!_ Matthew tried to say. _Britain will be pissed!_

Of _course_ America followed to see where the HELL Prussia was going at this hour in the morning when everyone else was sleeping. Who leaves in the middle of such an important conversation? Did he have to pee that badly? Alfred didn't think so. And so, he followed to see what it was he was up to.

Needless to say, he witnessed pretty much everything. There was no hesitation, there was no warning. There was just the thud thud thud THUD THUD of running feet, and then a super power was flying through the air. He flung himself at his enemy, tackling him in his side. CRACK! Slamming into Prussia, America rocketed him straight off the bed and onto the floor. And once there, he was not going to let up. Seated on top of him, America glared daggers Gilberts way.

"You're DEAD! You're FUCKING DEAD! You're already dead, but I'm going to kill you a second time! You'll be twice as dead dude! DUDE! No one touches my little bro! Especially not a ghost nation like you! GAAAH!"

But oddly enough, despite his clearly apparent rage, he didn't pummel the other nation like he had back at the bar. And try to fool himself as he might…Albert knew Matthew and he knew him well. He recalled that look he gave him back at the bar and how he'd pleaded him not to fight. Albert knew Matt liked Gilbert…even if he was a self-arrogant manipulating monkey ass face! And so, instead of killing Prussia as previous promised, he simply held him in place.

"Matt, bro," he said, still firmly holding Prussia down. "You tell me what to do, bro, ok? If this shit face is bothering you, you give me the word and I'll make it so he can't ever use his legs ever again. But if you're into this freak show…let me know and I'll back off. Ok, bro?" And it was painfully evident that he meant it. There was no doubt that America intended to completely cripple the other country if Matt gave the word. America glared down at Prussia with disgust.

"And to think I offered you my Sausage McMuffin. For SHAME!"

_What just happened?_ The second largest country in the world stared up at the ceiling his blue eyes huge. _Prussia had. Alfred. Alfred had._ Matthew's mind worked in slow motion as Alfred spoke to him. The words took time to process. As if he didn't have enough going through his head already a shrill British voice cried out from the door, "By God! I knew it! You two are snogging! What the hell are you thinking?"

Canada's groan was drawn out and filled with grief. He pulled the comforter over his head hiding from the world. He just wanted to go back to sleep. This was a dream, right? A nightmare? The quiet nation couldn't hide forever though. The longer Matthew stayed under the comforter the stronger America's grip on Prussia's shirt collar got. And America wasn't the only one waiting for an answer.

Prussia's eye narrowed as he stared at the lump on the bed, "Matthew!" He said clearly despite the American who was pinning him down, "If you want me to go back to mine bruder's just say so! I won't come back. If I'm botheringz you juz zay it."

Britain was the first to answer that, "That's exactly what he wants you- you- !" Britain was turning red in the face. He was so flustered he found it hard to speak. It was the silence that made Prussia sink back against the floor. Prussia looked away from his friend and he turned his head away from America. Prussia took his answer from the silence, "I willz go home. You can be a ghost anywhere. I'll ztay at mine bruderz. I wonz come back anymore. No morz pancakes. I'm too awezome for this anyway."

That got Matthew to sit up in bed. He didn't want Gilbert to leave. He would be devastated if Prussia never came back. In a world that tended to turn him into a ghost, he didn't want the one person who'd always noticed him to leave. He loved his family, but even America and Britain forgot about him on occasion. He loved having someone who always noticed him around. So Matthew quickly found himself crying out, "No! No! Don't do that!" The smaller nation clambered out of bed quickly. Perhaps a bit too quickly, Matthew got tangled up in the bed sheets and fell out of bed and onto the floor next to his brother and Prussia. He frantically reached out putting his hand on Alfred's shoulder. He was panicked, desperate, and sorry all at the same time. "It's ok. I-I want him to stay. Please. I need him to stay." Had he ever asked his brother something so desperately? He turned his blue eyes back to his second father and looked at Britain remorsefully. Canada knew Britain didn't like Prussia. He had wanted to break this to his father in a more elegant manner, but he couldn't keep it hidden anymore either, "I'm sorry. I knew you'd-" He was cut off when Britain huffed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. "Maple," Canada sniffed as his father stormed off. Matthew didn't turn back to face his brother either as he raised his hand to his eyes. He hadn't wanted to upset his father, but things had seemed to unravel so quickly. With a heavy sigh he gathered his frayed nerves and wiped his eyes dry.

America had meant what he'd said. He had plenty of faults, to be sure, but he was at least fairly straight forward. And seeing Matt scramble out of bed like that and seeing him rush to Prussia's side, well…he didn't really need to say anything. Alfred wasn't the best at reading emotions, but Matt's desperate face was clear as day. And so, America did what he promised.

"Ok bro," he said, his voice much softer now that he knew there wasn't any real danger to protect Matt from. Releasing Prussia, Alfred clambered off of his chest. He didn't get up however, because Matt was still kneeling beside his…boyfriend? Alfred wasn't sure what to call Prussia, but he knew well enough to see that it was ok. He'd always known Matt to swing that way. Canada, unlike America, had no problem with people of different orientations.

The tension in the room was getting to be a little bit too much, especially for a country as light-hearted as America. And seeing as the impending disaster was avoided, there was certainly no need to be so upset anymore, right?

And so, America's usual, silly grin took over his face as he reached out an arm and slapped poor Matt across the back, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he should have.

"You idiot, you! Dude! You should have just told me! Then I wouldn't have tried to break your boyfriend's legs, you know? Hahahaha! I'd argue with your taste in men though. He's pretty ugly isn't he?" And apparently not satisfied enough with a slap on the back, Alfred then proceeded to 'play punch' his little brother. And as always, his play punches were a little much for such a shy country.

"I've gotchyour back man! If this jerk-wad ever gives you trouble you give me a holler! Big brother America will always be here to support you, and also to completely moderate and possibly dominate all of your foreign affairs!"

The silence lasted for a moment. Then Canada couldn't hold it back anymore. "I can protect my own borders, Al." He let out a quiet laugh. The he winced as he felt a slight sting in his back, "You got your super strength back I see. I'm glad you feel better." With one more sigh he looked back at his brother. He felt relieved that his brother was handling the situation so well. Then he looked from his brother and then down at the wide eyed Prussian who was still on the floor. Gilbert seemed a bit dazed and excited. He hadn't moved since Canada had rushed to be by his side, "Gilbert? You ok?" Matthew asked. The Prussian continued to stare forward blankly.  
"Gil?" Matthew reached out putting his hand on Prussia's shoulder to shake him. That's when Prussia flew up off the floor. He jumped to his feet startling Canada, but then the albino burst into maniacal laugher.

"I've done it! I've occupied Canada's border!" Matthew rolled his eyes as his boyfriend continued to laugh like a nutcase.

When America went back downstairs Britain was sitting in a chair in the living room. His eyes white with shock. In one hand he held a tea saucer and in the other he held a tea cup. He had gone out and bought a set of tea cups after berating Alfred for not having any. At the moment though, he could have cared less about the tea. He was trembling so bad that the cup was rattling against the saucer with a fair amount of noise. He wasn't upset about Canada's policies on dating, but he was severely disturbed about who Canada was with.

"Stupid Arse. Prussia's been around for ages! He's practically been with everyone in Europe! I don't trust him! Now he's shacking up with my former colony. Blimey! Oh my God!" The cup and saucer rattled louder as tea began to slosh out of the cup from the shaking.

"They're snogging like it's nothing! He's not even a real country!" Britain didn't seem to notice the tea spilling onto his pants, "By God this is France's fault! France is one of Gilbert's best friends! I bet he knew about this! What does this mean for Canada's relationship with Germany? Does Germany know about this?"

After seeing everything was ok with his brother, America headed down stairs to check on Britain. Arthur had always been a worry-wart. America remembered being a kid, growing up in his house. He hadn't been allowed to do hardly anything fun at all!

"Get off that counter!"

"Do NOT play with those matches!"

"Knives are not toys!"

"No, you're not getting a rocket for your birthday!"

Those were just a few of his memories. As such, he knew he'd be freaking out about this too. And of course he was right. Stepping into the living room, he found Britain shaking like a leaf, tea cup rattling and spilling tea everywhere. Alfred couldn't help but to laugh.

"Hahaha! You're such an old worry-wart!" Running over, America leapt and plopped his butt down on the couch just beside his parental figure. "You are kinda right though, Prussia is kind of a man whore. And it probably IS France's fault. Pretty much everything is, am I right?" He laughed again as he elbowed his father figure in the side.

"Anyway, Arty, we gotta let Matt do what he's gotta do, right? How's the famous saying go?" He put a index finger to his chin in thought as his blue eyes lifted to the ceiling. "If you love someone, teach them how to fish? No wait…it's…give a man a fish and he eats for a day? No wait…this has nothing to do with fish. Letting someone go is the hardest thing to do? No wait…life is like a box of chocolates…no…no…wait! I got it!" Snapping his fingers he looked to poor Britain.

"Love is all you need! Yeah! The Beetles had it right! And you should trust them Arty! They're from your neck of the woods!" America smiled brightly, clearly convinced that he had fixed everything for poor Arthur. "Even if Prussia is a whore, maybe that's what Matt wants right now. We should support him, even if Prussia is a monkey ass face. If you're worried, you can just leave it to me! I'll protect him and make sure he doesn't get into trouble. I just told him upstairs that if he ever needs me to save him, to just say the word and I'll rush in guns blazing! Then he said something about being able to protect his own boarders, but clearly that part was a joke."

America continued to grin, convinced he was being just oh-so-helpful. In reality, he was just setting his father-figure up for a heart attack.

"Yup! No need to worry when America is your older brother who lives next door!"

As America continued to speak the tea cup only began to rattle louder and louder. Eventually it shook right out of Arthur's hand, and tea spilled all over his pants. This ungentlemanly behavior didn't seem to pull the Brit out of his thoughts. He was still staring off in shock and horror as he thought of Canada and Prussia, "You kids know nothing about Prussia! Only what you've read in history books…."

Arthur thought about what he was saying to America and rephrased, "Only what you've played in video games! Blimey!" Britain jumped to his feet. The tea cup he'd been using went crashing to the floor, "I can't let this happen. I don't trust that arse! People from my neck of the woods- Ugh! You can't trust him! He'll stab Matthew in the back! A-and you! You hardly ever visit your brother! How will you be able to keep an eye on him? I can't do it! I'm too far away and you're not responsible enough!" In truth no one really visited the Canadian. He wasn't involved in a lot of the things his family was involved in. His only real sport interest was hockey which he dominated. Matthew didn't enjoy foreign films, or his brother's over hyped movies. Plus when Canada did show up for things he was far from the center of attention, hell, the kid was somewhat invisible most of the time. It was a shame to admit that they'd actually left Matthew at venues before, not remembering the Northern nation had attended with them.

Britain paced. Prussia would be at Matthew's house if they were snogging! All kinds of things could happen. At just that moment the albino nation came walking downstairs like he was king of the world. He wore a triumphant grin. After his long night of paper writing Matthew needed more sleep, so he'd gone back to bed. As such Prussia decided to come downstairs and brave his boyfriend's family. At Canada's request he decided to try and reassure Britain, "Ze awezome me will take awezome care of him. Zu don't needz to worry." Prussia said with vigor.

"I'll make that call! You are friends with that blasted FROG! You can't be trusted!", Britain hollered. Britain stalked towards Prussia index finger raised. He was going into a full on rant about how irresponsible and ridiculous the situation was. He was telling Prussia that he should leave. Britain carried on for quite a while, but Prussia stood his ground. Prussia let Britain speak his mind without making one sarcastic comment. It was clear by his demeanor that he was serious about Canada. He never once faltered in his resolve of taking care of Matthew despite Britain's criticism that the relationship was a disaster waiting to happen.


	4. A Doomed Future

**Chapter 4**

A Doomed Future

Back upstairs in America's house, while the three other countries downstairs fussed and argued, Canada rested peace. He lay in the guest room, golden hair strewn about his pillow. A stuffed animal version of his polar bear lay snuggled loosely between his arms. Glasses resting on the nightstand of the guest room he occupied, and his new boyfriend finally out in the open with his family, things seemed as if they might actually work out. Britain may have been angry and mistrusting at the moment, but at least America seemed as if he were trying to be accepting…in his strange overprotective way. And so, the quieter of the two twins was able to close his eyes and rest.

But far away from such a peaceful time, was a future that was torn apart by war, famine, disease and despair. And in an act of complete and total desperation, a certain country may have stolen Britain's book of black magic. And with absolutely nothing left to lose, that country cast a spell that had been both forbidden, and considered so dangerous…it was also cursed.

He hardly cared. And so, through a blanket of darkness and light, he was sucked out of his time period, and sent five years into the past. Thankfully…he had remembered the exact date that would lead him to a location where all the players he needed were in one place together. And the only reason he'd been able to remember such a date, was because it had been right after the elections, and also right after he had recovered from hurricane Sandy.

He knew he would arrive at his own house. And he also knew…that Canada, Britain, Prussia, and a past version of himself would be present. It would cause a time paradox to be certain…but again he didn't care. He hardly cared about anything anymore. There was only one thing left that he could do.

In the same swirl of darkness and light, the country appeared in the upstairs bedroom where Canada currently rested. And as the magic around him began to fade…the country collapsed down to one knee from the weight of his own body, and the pain it took to hold himself upright.

It was America…but he hardly resembled the America everyone was so familiar with. He looked drastically, dreadfully different from the one that was, at that moment, downstairs, laughing and teasing Britain, or making fun of Prussia. This America…could have easily been mistaken for someone else.

He wasn't in his usual jacket. His was in his army uniform, complete with combat boots and dog tags. He would have had his helmet too…had it not been blown from his head in the last firefight he took part in. And the uniform itself was worse for wear. It was torn in places, mud smeared and spattered it, and worse of all…were the dark red stains it sported in places.

America himself looked worse than his camouflage. His skin was darkened with the same mud. No longer pale, but rather tanned from being out in the sun all day, every day, gave him an even darker look still. He was covered in sweat. His golden hair had been crudely hacked off, seemingly with a knife. What was left of it was stained with blood.

Lifting his head, the eye patch he wore became painfully obvious. It was clearly a homemade one, roughly applied, probably in the midst of battle. It was just some cloth that had been torn and taped over his wound…and it wasn't doing its job completely…blood was still seeping out from under it running down his left cheek and toward his jaw line.

Blood also dripped from a split and swollen looking lower lip, and a gash over his healthy eye. And as he struggled to catch his breath, something that seemed much more labored than it should be, spatterings of the liquid stained the carpet beneath him.

Knowing he had to stand and do his job, America reached out and grabbed onto his AK47 which he had dropped upon entry just next to the magic book, which he ignored. It had served its purpose. As he took hold of his gun with both hands, it became clear that he was missing several fingers on his left hand. What was left of the appendage had also been hastily wrapped in the same way as his eye. But luckily, he'd always been a righty, and so, felt he could at least still operate his gun and get the job done.

"Get up…" he mumbled to himself through grit teeth. "Get up soldier!" He called upon the willpower he'd always had within himself when things became impossibly tough. Despite the way he once acted in his days of the past, appearing carefree and someone useless, he actually was quite determined, and a lot tougher than the other countries may have even realized. America had a spirit that couldn't be crushed or defeated…even when the country itself was being crushed and defeated.

"I won't fucking die! Not yet!" He had one thing left to do. And by God he was going to do it. Once it was done, it would be done, and he would cease to exist anyway. And so, on spirit and willpower alone, and with the strength of the states in the future that still stood, he pushed himself back upright and to his feet.

Standing erect and tall, his shoulders back and his chin held high, he lifted his gun with him, even though it was growing heavier by the second.

_I have to find Prussia,_ he thought desperately. _I have to find him before it's all too late!_ Not noticing Matthew in the bed for the moment, for he was facing the bedroom door, and the bed itself was to his left…the side he was blind on…he took one unsteady step forward, his army boots clumping loudly on the floor.

Canada had been dozing peacefully when he felt something odd. It was hard to explain. Probably another one of those twin things as Britain so often said. He got that feeling whenever his twin was close by, but… this sensation felt different. It was a heavy feeling in his gut, and it made him uncomfortable.

Unable to ignore it Matthew opened his eyes and saw the fuzzy outline of his brother in the illuminated doorway. Matthew's first instinct was to roll his eyes. He was tired, damn it. He wanted to sleep. He'd been up practically all night.

Matthew couldn't tell very well because his glasses sat on the nightstand, but it seemed like his brother was wearing something strange. Matthew could tell Alfred was not wearing his normal clothes. The colors were to dim, were they army green? Was that a rifle? What the hell? What was Alfred doing?

Matthew took a tight hold on the stuffed bear in his arms. He didn't hesitate to throw the bear across the room and hit Alfred with it,

"Alfred, what the hell are you doing?" Matthew reached out to grab his glasses from the nightstand and pulled them on. He let out a yawn, "I just got to sleep again, Al."

"Al…." His voice trailed off when he opened his eyes and stared at his older brother. His blue eyes grew huge as he took in the horrible sight of his twin brother. "…A-a-alf-red?" his voice caught in his throat as he sat up in bed, "O-oh mon dieu."

America stopped in the doorway once hit with the bear. But even far more shocking for him was hearing his twin brother's voice. Slowly, he turned around. As he did, it would have been even more shocking for poor Canada to see his battered face. But as America's one good eye, fell to his brother's sweet face, his entire war hardened exterior changed.

"M…Matthew?" His voice had quivered, and along with it, so did his chin. Matt watched as Alfred's entire expression transformed, twisting and warping into one of complete and total grief. He appeared completely heartbroken, an emotion Canada never had witnessed before on his brother's face.

America's one blue eye began to shimmer, and tears unashamedly began to roll down his dirtied face. Before Canada could ever understand what was happening, America turned to face him completely, and then ran to him, a slight limp in his right leg.

"Brother!" America flung himself at Matthew, and once he reached him at his bed side, he fell to his knees, dropping his weapon to the floor at his side. Reaching out, he clutched the young blonde to his chest, tightly, with both hands and with a desperation no one had ever seen on what should have been a strong countries face.

"Oh my God! You're here! I mean, I knew you would be, but I…I…I didn't think I could…" And quite suddenly…he was sobbing. He buried his bruised and bloodied face in the northern countries shoulder, his tears and blood soaking into his pajamas.

"I…I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! Please! Please forgive me little brother? I thought I could protect you…keep you safe but I…I couldn't! And I…I didn't know what was happening until you were gone! And once you were gone, I…I couldn't find you! I searched everywhere! I'm so sorry! Please believe me? I tried everything but I…I was too late!"

He clutched Canada to his chest, refusing to let go. That may have been disturbing enough for Matt, and his brothers appearance would have been terrifying too, and maybe even the things he was blubbering about, or perhaps seeing him so upset, but perhaps even most of all, would be the way he trembled in Canada's arms. He was clearly a complete and total wreck, and he looked almost…as if he were dying…

"Please forgive me," he said again, burying his face against him. "I w…I wasn't a good big brother. I failed…I've failed everyone…but mostly you." If at all possible, he held onto Matthew even more tightly, his body, considerably thinner than what Matt was used to, trembled even more violently from his grief.

"I love you Matthew," he said, another sob escaping him. "I was always joking around, or teasing you…and I…I never told you enough…how much I love you. How important you are to me…Please…please forgive me. I've come for a second chance…please give me a second chance…"

"Eh." Canada's eyes were as large as the moon. He was far passed confused. At first his arms hung at his sides as his twin grabbed him and started to blubber and cry. He knew his brother was a prankster. Hell, Alfred pulled pranks all the time. A few seconds ago Matthew assumed his brother's get up was a ruse of some sort, but he felt his brother shaking. He'd never seen his brother cry like this. He couldn't fake this raw type of emotion. Alfred just wasn't that good of an actor. Besides America's tough front was one thing Matthew had always believed his brother would never let slip. He'd seen his brother keep the tough front up in the darkest of times, but here was his twin crying like a baby.

Matthew raised his arms unaware that the terror was causing him to shake as well. He reached out tightly wrapping his arms around his brother. _What is he talking about? He hasn't failed me? Did something happen? Did he get attacked? Did I miss something? Where are Britain and Prussia? _Surely if something this horrible had happened somebody would have come and woke him up. Everything seemed ok, but here was Alfred bleeding, sobbing, and a total wreck in his arms. So Matthew did the only thing he could think. He pulled his brother closer to him.

"It's ok Alfred. I-I don't know what you're talking about, Al. I'm fine. I'm fine bro. Y-you didn't fail me. C-calm down. Ok?" And of course, Canada knew that they needed some help, right away, so he called out in his quiet way for their father, "Br-Britain!" He was still in shock and his voice was low. But it was then that he looked down at himself and saw the blood. It was everywhere. Alfred was bleeding and the blood was soaking through Matthew's pajamas and the bed as well. He'd known he was hurt…but the sheer amount of it showed him how bad it truly was. Horror quickly began to set in.

"BRITAIN! BRITAIN HELP! PLEASE HELP!" He shrieked. Matthew's blue eyes stayed wide. "Alfred! You're bleeding! You're _really_ bleeding! What happened to you? What's going on? Oh God! You need to lie down! You're wounds! Mon Deiu!" Matthew felt himself wanting to hyperventilate at seeing his brother in such poor condition.

The trio downstairs heard the Northern nation scream. Britain ran up the stairs.

"What the bloody hell is it now? Matthew! What's the matter-" Britain burst into the guest room and froze. His green eyes grew huge as he saw America in Canada's arms. America looked horrid. The younger nation looked like he'd been through WW3, but Britain would recognize his former colony anywhere.

_Why is he injured like that? Oh my God! What's going on here?_ Britain spun around to find _his_ America standing behind him. Having just come up the stairs, the super power had a look of shock on his face.

"What the-" There were two of them! Obviously the America in Matthew's arms didn't belong here. Britain mentally tried to think of any logical reason for there to be two America's.

He spun back around to the America in Matthew's arms. Britain's eyes searched the room desperately and then his wide, green eyes traveled down to the floor. There it was. There was the answer to this mystery. It was a spell book. It was _his_ spell book. The book looked worse for wear, but black magic was obviously behind this fiasco.

Britain had been with America all morning. So the present day America hadn't performed any magic. Plus Britain knew his spell book was in his home. It was not in America. Britain's mind raced through the spells trying to pinpoint the exact one Alfred had used.

"Oh my God! What have you done, Alfred? You git! You stole my spellbook!" The horrified Britain stared at the scene in front of him in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Suddenly realization came to Britain. Why would Alfred use this spell? This wasn't a duplication spell or some little incantation.

There was only one spell that would have the end result of two existences of the same person in one place and also answer for all the lunacy that was currently taking place. That spell was forbidden because the penalty for casting that spell was the death of the castor. His British mind was reeling. This was a time travel spell, and that spell was highly ineffective anyway, the castor of the spell would die within minutes of going back in time. This future America was doomed and nothing Britain could do would save him. Britain felt his heart beat violently in his chest. But then, a third pair of feet came up the stairs and over to the open doorway.

"Birdie! Are you ok?" Prussia rounded the corner and stood in the doorway behind Britain.

America from the present day, the one that had been downstairs with Britain and Prussia ran up the stairs just behind Britain when he heard Canada scream. He sounded really scared! Worried for his little Bro (maybe he was having a nightmare?) America ran into the room just behind the elder country. And once he stepped in…he froze in place.

A man was in the room with Matt. He was in an American soldier's uniform, and he was kneeling in front of his baby brother…blubbering…crying…and he was horrifically injured. Blood dripped from his face and out from under his hair…or what was left of it. He looked like a wreck.

America quickly looked to Matt's face. He saw the fear there, and he immediately knew what he had to do. This man…whoever he was…must have broken into his house. And now, he was scaring his bro! Immediately, America marched forward, meaning business. Reaching out, he grabbed the strangers shoulder.

"Look here pal! I don't know who you think you are, but no one frightens my little broth-!" But America's righteous rant was immediately cut short when the stranger turned to face him. His face, although thin, and haggard, and even with a missing eye, was quite unmistakable. It was like looking into a mirror. A horrible, terrifying mirror.

America fell speechless. He was too shocked to make a witty comeback, or even move. This soldier before him…the one that looked like he may die from his wounds…was…him?

_That's impossible,_ he thought. _No one looks like me…except Matthew. But…his face…_

The American soldier appeared as if he were going to say something to the present day America…but that was when Prussia stepped into the room.

"Birdie! Are you ok?"

Everyone in the room watched as the soldier's tears stopped. His grief stricken, defeated expression changed drastically, and as quickly as spreading fire, anger bloomed over his features. His good eye hardened, flames igniting deep within them. His lips curled, a horrible snarl making its way over his face. He trembled again, but this time, due to a very different emotion.

"You!" And just like that, he looked more like the Devil himself than someone crippled by grief and fatal injuries. He summoned all the strength he had left, then reached down to his gun. Grabbing it, he rose to his feet, releasing Canada. Staggering just a bit, he purposefully and quickly marched forward, moving rather well considering how much pain he should have been in. He didn't explain himself, and he said nothing as he went to the door. He grabbed Britain, then suddenly and roughly shoved him aside. And then, once he was out of the way, he didn't even hesitate to lift his AK47.

He aimed at Prussia, planted his feet, then immediately pulled the trigger. The gun went off, deafening in the small space of the upper bedroom of the house. And as the bullet flew, their shells falling to the floor, the soldier screamed in what sounded like a completely crazed rage.

Prussia's red eyes widened when the future America stood up from his place next to Matthew. He immediately knew the look in future America's eyes. It was the look of someone who was about to kill. Gilbert knew he was in trouble when he saw future America reach out and shove Britain aside. Seeing as he was the only one left on the bad end of the gun Prussia was scrambling before America ever pulled the trigger. He dropped low as bullets whizzed over his head. He let out a cry as he crawled and scrambled through the bedroom door and out into the hallway. It wasn't like the wall offered much protection though. Wood splintered and rained down just above his head as he fled down the hallway.

Canada let out a cry of horror as his war torn brother started shooting at his boyfriend. His hands flew up and covered his ears as the sound of the gun filled the room and his ears began to ring. Matthew quickly started to hyperventilate again when he realized his hands were covered in America's blood, and it was soaking into his hair and dripping down the sides of his face. It was horrifying. There was still blood everywhere, and wherever the war torn Alfred went a trail of red followed.

Canada didn't know why there were two Alfred's in the room. He didn't know why the war torn Alfred was shooting at his boyfriend. Matthew didn't have the vaguest idea what was happening. However, Matthew did know he loved his brother, be it the brother he was used too who was standing and staring at the scene in shock or this crazed solider brother. It didn't matter.

Alfred was Alfred, and currently the Alfred with the assault rifle was bleeding profusely, and he needed to be stopped. Matthew jumped from the bed and ran after America.

"Stop! Stop! STOP!" He reached out grabbing at the gun in the crazed America's hands. He grabbed the barrel ignoring his burning hand and grabbed at the stock. He wrenched the barrel up and away from the direction of his boyfriend. The line of bullets flew up the wall and into the roof, plaster and paint raining down on the pair. Matthew was terrified. All the motion was causing future America to bleed more,

"ALFRED! STOP! What are you doing? You're still bleeding!" Canada let go of the rifle and reached out putting his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Alfred! What is going on?"

Perhaps no one else could've broken America from his crazed state. Nothing else could have reached him but those tearing blue orbs that were identical to his own. Those blue eyes that he hadn't seen in 3 years.

Future America would still remember the descent into hell that he'd taken over the last 5 years. It had been July 1st. Canada's birthday was on that day like it had been for ages. America had canceled last minute on their plans that day. It wasn't on purpose, but things had gotten so busy. His boss had needed him, and Matthew although disappointed had understood and they agreed that next year they'd do something awesome to make up for it. Then three days later it had been July 4th, America's birthday. Canada had come to his birthday party, but he hadn't stayed the whole time. Canada was a quiet guy. He was much like Japan in that way. Matthew had come to wish his brother well and watch the fireworks, but he had left before the drinking and all out party had set in around one in the morning.

That had been it. No warning or hints about the things to come.

There were really no major holidays between July 4th and Christmas that they shared. Canadian and American Thanksgiving were held on different days. Canada had long since argued that he was too old to go trick or treating. As such Alfred hadn't started missing his brother until around December when he hadn't received an RSVP for the Christmas party he threw every year. After no returns to his calls he'd called both Britain and France. He had found out that no one had heard from Matthew for quite some time.

They'd later be told by the white haired bastard whose past self was currently hiding, that July 6th was the day Gilbert had tricked Matthew into going to Russia. Future Gilbert had bragged about how easy it had been. He had said they were going to Germany for extended plans, which is what Canada's boss had assumed. Prussia had boasted that he had put a little something in Canada's drink, and Matthew didn't wake up until long after touchdown in the other country.

By the time everyone realized something was terribly wrong they had no leads on where Canada could be. His house was abandoned and long since covered in dust when America had gone to check on his little brother.

Future Prussia would once again brag after the start of the war that Canada was much too easy, and that he'd also acted rather pathetically during the time he'd been a prisoner in Russia. At the start of the war Canada had been A-bombed. Britain and France took the bombings as a sorrowful sign. The bombings had destroyed many of the government buildings and other national treasures. When Canada's government officially crumbled during occupation by N. Korea, China, New Prussia, and Russia the two fathers' knew that wherever Matthew was he was most likely dead.

A few days after that Prussia had personally called America. After insulting Alfred on his idiocy Prussia told America the exact latitude and longitude of Matthew's whereabouts. Britain and France had tried everything to keep Alfred from walking into a trap. When it became apparent Alfred was going they had come with him. It had indeed been a trap, but not like the one Britain and France had been worried about. No one interfered when they got to their destination.

Along the American-Canadian border was Canada's body. It was discarded in the snow like some trash. The battered remains wrapped in a white sheet that didn't hide any of the torture the young nation had gone through. Radiation burns covered more than half of his body. His once beautiful hair was frail and most of it had fallen out due to the radiation poisoning. It was quickly apparent that the body was sickeningly thin and the scars…those were all over.

It had been a psychological attack and had devastated all of them... no one worse than America. Canada was the first nation that America had lost in such a way. They had laid his brother to rest, but that didn't end the torture.

To torment Alfred further Gilbert purposefully mailed America tapes of certain times when Canada had been a prisoner. Prussia's plans were to demoralize his enemy. Prussia sent America segments when Canada had been talking out loud and begging his brother to help him or begging the empty room he'd been in that he would be able to talk to any of his family members again or times when Canada was clearly insane with torture and pain and would curse those family members for not helping him then soon after beg them for help again. This psychological warfare had plagued future America ever since the start of WW3.

And clearly, Prussia's strategy to completely demoralize his enemy with psychological warfare had worked. And it had worked well. One of America's biggest strengths, his fortitude and spirit had crumbled into dust. Completely devastated by the loss, the grief, the crushing guilt of having not protected his brother, it was almost impossible to fight in a war against the Canadian border where Prussia was advancing every single day onto American soil. Having taken over his little brothers country, America found himself face to face with innocent Canadians every time he lifted his gun. After all, what a better way to get more troops, and also ensure your enemy couldn't fight back than to force the men and women of the defeated nation to fight? Alfred found himself in a position of having to choose between protecting America, or shooting his deceased little brother's citizens in the face almost every moment of every day.

It drove him completely mad.

Of course poor Canada had no way of knowing any of these future events. He squeezed future America's shoulders. Canada's tears were running down his face.

"Please. Please Alfred. Please you're hurt. You're bleeding. I need to help you." Britain ran after his future son. His future spell book in hand.

"Matthew! He's from the future. This is my book of black magic. He's used a forbidden spell to go back in time!" Britain enlightened the crowd as to what was happening. Matthew stared into his brother's crazed eye. Matthew's own eyes were still horrified.

"Oh mon dieu. What happened to you? Who hurt you like this? I won't let anyone hurt you like this Alfred. I wouldn't let this happen. I'd protect you." Canada couldn't believe he'd let his brother get into this bad of shape. Sure Alfred could be annoying, but Canada loved his brother. No one messed with his brother. No one. So how had this happened?

The soldier wouldn't be stopped from his mission. Once he spotted Prussia, any distraction that would come his way wouldn't stop him…not even his beloved brother. America knew perfectly well that he only had a few moments left to live. And as much as he would love to spend his last moments with his family, he had made this sacrifice so that they might live in the future. As such…just a bit more heartache was needed, just a bit more suffering. In denying himself the company he so desperately wanted from Matthew, he would fulfill his mission by killing Prussia where he stood…or crawled, like the worm he was.

And so…as good as a blow to his own heart, he cruelly shoved Matthew aside when he came to try and stop him. Far too wild in his desperate rage for words, he offered no explanation as he then ran out of the room after the country that had destroyed all he'd ever loved, all he'd ever cherished.

_I'll kill him. I will succeed! I must! I have no choice! _He raced out into the hall after his quarry. There was a glimpse of white hair that started to disappear behind a corner. Fueled solely on adrenaline and desperation, and numb to his pain from post traumatic shock, America launched himself after Prussia in a mad dash. Seemingly almost superhuman, and defying his fate, at least for a few more seconds, he rounded the corner and lifted his gun a second time.

Screaming in a rage, he fired again, but Prussia was ahead of him now and dove into a bedroom. The walls splintered and shattered under the force of the automatic weapon. Paint was reduced to dust as Alfred's hallway was ripped apart by the bullets.

But as the bullets flew, they eventually ran out. America had used up most of his ammo in the battle he'd just come from, and even an AK47 could run dry. Knowing he had nothing to replenish it with, he dropped it to the floor with a CLUNK. Reaching down to his thighs, he then pulled out a hand gun. Starting down the hall, weakened and finally seemingly to start to slow, he staggered down the destroyed passageway. He almost lost his balance once, his shoulder falling against the wall, but with incredible determination he forced himself upright again and kept going.

"Come on out you Prussian PIG!" He screamed. Delirious from blood loss and shock, he wasn't sure which room he'd ducked into. As such, he raised his gun as he came across each one, briefly glimpsing inside. "Come out and I'll make it quick and easy! It's far FAR more than you deserve!"

Breathing was becoming more difficult, but he didn't care.

_I don't need to breathe in order to pull a trigger, _he thought. _I don't even need all my fingers. _Looking into the next room, he found it empty.

"You like to play games? You like to torture people, hmm? By giving back their little brother after he's DEAD!" Stepping up to the next doorway, he spotted what he was looking for. A dash of white hair was poking out from behind some bedroom curtains.

America didn't hesitate. He launched himself inside. Moving far more quickly than he should have been able to, he reached the curtain and struck out. Grabbing onto his enemy, he tackled him to the floor. Sitting on top of him, he grabbed his neck, pinning him down with his mutilated left hand. With the right, he jammed his handgun into his forehead. Eyes completely crazed he screamed.

"I'm sending you to HELL!" He pulled the trigger.

Click click. A small sound of the metal pin hitting back against nothing plinked into the room instead of the huge explosion of the gunshot the soldier expected.

America's good eye twitched. He immediately pulled the trigger again, several more times.

Click, click, click, click, click.

He was clearly out of bullets, perhaps used up in the last battle he'd fought before he went back in time. His intense face started to change as he realized he had no ammunition left for any of the weapons he carried. Without hesitation, he dropped his gun, then curled both hands around Prussia's neck. He'd strangle him to death if he had to! Bare handed!

But…as he tried to…he quickly realized that he hadn't the strength. He wouldn't have, even before the leap through time. But now that he'd messed with such a dark spell, and his life was being drained away, he hadn't a hope of calling forth such strength.

His hands trembled from the effort, but he hardly was even putting much pressure on the ghost nation. Alfred's eyes filled with a sudden onslaught of fresh tears.

"..n…no. N..o…No! NO! NOO!" But he felt himself fading and he knew it was too late. He'd failed in his mission, and his imminent death was preventing him from carrying it out. And with no reason to push himself forward, with no reason to go on anymore, he almost instantly collapsed.

He exhaled harshly, then simply gave up his remaining strength. Falling forward, he collapsed on top of his enemy. Hardly even able to move anymore without the inner willpower he'd been using all this time, he cursed himself inwardly for not being able to do a single damned thing right the entire war.

All the same…he wasn't ready to completely give up yet. If he couldn't do it…if he couldn't carry out the mission, he would find someone else who could. He had to at least warn his family of future events. He had to at least tell Britain the things that had happened. It could still be prevented he was sure. And if he could just tell himself, the past version of America all these things…then…he never would have left Matthew alone for so long. He could have saved him…had he only known.

And, perhaps more than that…he didn't want to be alone when he died. He wanted, _needed_ his family with him.

"M…Ma…Matthew…" He called weakly. He wanted to at least look into his brother's face one last time, have his father hold onto him as the darkness crept in. And if he could just tell himself from years past…how important family actually was…well…then maybe he wouldn't have taken advantage of them for most of his life.

"Hold still!" Britain was the first to his former colony's side. "Bloody Hell, Alfred. You've gone barmy! " He reached out pulling Alfred up and off of Prussia and back into his arms. "What the hell has happened? Why are you here?"

Britain held America firmly in his arms. Arthur was keeping the dying nation upright and secured against his chest. This was quite possibly the most awful thing Arthur had ever felt. True he bickered with America. True he loved to point out Alfred's flaws and lecture him on them, but he loved the nation he'd raised as a son. He surely never wanted to see this! He held Alfred all the tighter. He had to wonder how this future America had even found out about the time traveling spell. Surely his future British self hadn't told America about it. Obviously this future America was unhinged. How bad could the world be that this was the only answer? But Britain had heard America scream part of the answer while he'd been chasing down Prussia. Arthur held America to his green vest as tightly as he dare and looked to the Prussian standing just across the room.

"Alfred. What did you mean? What do you mean Prussia likes to torture people? What do you mean your little brother died? What happened? Tell me, love."

Prussia crawled away from the two. He was in shock as well. Not to mention being chased by a crazed America was enough to scare the shit out of anyone, but the things America was saying were equally as horrid.

"Ze awezome me would n-never." His red eyes went to Matthew, but he didn't approach his boyfriend.

Then Matthew was there standing a few feet in front of his downed brother. Matthew looked at Prussia in shock and horror then he went to Alfred's side. Matthew looked at Britain with a look of utter terror. He was trying to ask if his brother would be ok, but Britain shook his head no. Matthew immediately understood what was taking place.

"M-mon dieu…" Matthew reached out putting his hands onto either side of Alfred's face. The tears were leaking out of his eyes again, but he tried to wipe them away.

"H-hey bro. Oh mon Dieu s'il vous plaît ne faites pas cela." (Oh God, Please don't do this.) He found himself defaulting back to his first language in times of stress, and surely nothing would ever be more stressful than this. Of course Alfred could find comfort in his brother's French. It was something that was unique to Matthew. France always had a serious translation lisp whenever he spoke English, but Matthew could speak either language just fine.

Matthew gently kept his hands on America's dying face. He stared into his brother's eyes now that future America wasn't rampaging around and destroying the house while simultaneously trying to kill Prussia.

"I- I don't understand Alfred. I-I don't get it." He had heard what his brother had said, but he couldn't grasp it. What had Alfred meant by saying his little brother died? Canada felt fine. He wouldn't just die. He was a nation. How could that be? How was his death Prussia's fault? Alfred had talked about having guilt upstairs. He'd been apologizing for failing. Canada's eyebrows knit together.

"Alfred. I would never blame you for-for something you couldn't control. I- I love you, brother. It's ok. I would never hate you. No matter what."

The dying country smiled, but even his grin didn't make him resemble the country he once was. This smile had far too much melancholy behind it to belong to the America everyone currently knew. He lifted a hand. It shook due to his fading strength, but had managed to gently touch Canada's cheek all the same.

"You've always been…so sweet at heart…such a…kind country…" He wanted more time. More time to spend with his father and brother. But he knew that even this would be stolen from him. He didn't have time. He was dying. He could feel it inside. And with what time he had left, he knew he had to make them understand.

"Matthew…listen…" he said, his voice already losing its edge. "Don't let Prussia into your heart. Don't…please. He…he betrays us. He takes you away. He takes you to Russia and Russia holds you there while Prussia takes over your country…" America's face twisted in on itself. His expression crumpled at the mere memory of it.

"They…they bomb everything…and..and…you…you died…" Tears rolled down, carving clean trails through the muck and grime on his face. "He gave you back to me after you were dead…just to break me." His hand fell away from his twins face as he turned his head away, squeezing his one good eye shut from the horror of his memories.

"Of course…once he had Canada for his own…he came after me. We…started world war three. I…had Britain and France, and Japan on my side but…Russia and China and North Korea were helping Prussia. We seemed evenly matched for a while…but Prussia…Prussia sure is good at fucking with people. He started sending me videos of you… from when you were held prisoner…in Russia. I…I couldn't…I…I just want…wanted.."

But he really didn't need to finish. The message was clear enough. He turned his face into Arthur's chest, burying his face.

"Dad…" And that must have been a strange thing for everyone to hear. America hadn't called Britain 'dad' since he was a little boy. "Dad…don't let him…don't let Prussia near Matt. He…disappears…right after my birthday of this upcoming year. We…we…we never see him again! Please…d..don't…let him…"

Alfred was starting to fade and he was fading fast. His breathing very suddenly became very labored. Wheezing, a strange, unnatural liquid-like sound could be heard coming from inside him. And a second later, blood could be seen between his lips.

Matthew's eyes widened even further. All the blood was quickly draining from his face. His heart was racing so fast he thought it would explode in his chest. This was too much.

"A-Alfred." Matthew reached out and wiped the blood away from his dying brother's mouth. "St-stop talking, Alfred. S-save your strength. Pl-please." His eyes welled up once more and he reached out carefully wrapping his arms around his brother. He held him, pressing his forehead against Alfred's shoulder, "I'll be ok, Al. I promise. I love you so much." He held his dying brother as tightly as he dared.

Britain's green eyes narrowed. He had been weary of the albino country since he'd first found Gilbert with Matthew. Now Arthur was downright furious. The nostalgia of being called dad welling within him as his son lay dying. Alfred hadn't said those words since long before the revolutionary war. Even then it had been rare. Britain looked down at his two sons. How dare the albino bastard cause any action that would lead to this horrible fate! Britain moved his left arm and laid it around America and latched onto Canada holding onto him tightly. He was afraid Canada would vanish then and there.

"It's ok Alfred. I will not let him hurt your brother. I have Matthew. I will not let him disappear. Alfred, you're saying Prussia betrays Matthew, and Prussia kills your brother? Y- you came back to keep that from happening?" Even if all that was true there were so many questions up in the air. Arthur had been afraid Prussia would sleep around on Matthew, but to betray, kidnap, and kill his second son? That had never crossed Britain's mind. Not in his wildest dreams. Gilbert take over Canada? What the hell kind of future was this?

"Wh-when do they bomb Canada, Alfred?" Britain quickly asked his dying son. Prussia wasn't a country so obviously one of the other countries would have had to do the bombings, "Which one was it? Who was behind the attack? Was that Russia? Who bombed Canada?"

Alfred turned his attention back to his father. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to speak. His chest was growing heavy, but he knew Arthur was the most reliable in the group. He had to answer.

"R…Russia…Russia…is behind most…all of it…" he answered. And of course, in looking at his father's worried face, emotion for him welled up inside all over again. He knew, he had to apologize to him too before he died.

"I'm..s…so sorry dad. I…y…you told me not to take your book…th…that you…couldn't…bear to lose me too…af..after…Matthew. But…you…you didn't understand…that.I..I…was already dead…" More blood bubbled up from his lips, garbing his words. But even in death he wasn't going to let it stop him.

"Pr…Prussia…was…at…New York's door just before I left…in…fact…I'm not…even sure if it's the curse that's killing me…or…if…P…Prussia…" His voice trailed off. He saw the understanding in Arthur's eyes. He didn't need to finish. Feeling his life slip away from him, he knew he only had seconds left. His vision fading along with the rest of him, he lifted his eyes to the room's doorway.

Standing there, and having been there the entire time, was the current day's America. He'd followed his family, but hadn't set foot into the tomb. He'd seen everything, heard every word. But he was in far too much shock to move or speak. He could barely keep up with what was happening. It was so overwhelming. It just couldn't be true. None of it could possibly be true. Clearly, he'd seen one too many Hollywood movies. Because things like this simply didn't happen in real life. That man, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood couldn't actually be America.

America was invincible. Everyone knew that. Nothing and no one could ever take down America. He couldn't die. There was no way. And all this stuff about Canada? He didn't believe that either. He couldn't. Because…as much as he liked to act carefree and like everything was always a party, he knew perfectly well that Matthew and Arthur were all he really had (other than himself of course.) Being a jokester and a partier and even an ass from time to time kept things lively and fun. It kept away things like sadness, or worry or even fear. It kept him sane when things like a fiscal cliff were drawing near. And so…to see America presented in the way he was…defeated…and not just defeated…but apparently, driven to near madness from grief and violence…it was too much.

Alfred didn't know how to function in a stressful environment without jokes or a lighthearted attitude. He'd often felt it was in fact, his job to make sure none of the other countries got too serious about matters either. And if people could just laugh about things and about one another…well…then a future like this…could never…

"You…" Alfred lifted his head from the thoughts he'd been having as he stood in the room's doorway. Looking out, he saw the soldier, the one dying in Arthur's arms staring straight at him. And that one blue eye of his…was heavy…and terrible.

"You…" he croaked again, licking his bloodied lips. "Don't…be like…me." Alfred stared at him, his heart feeling suddenly freezing cold with dread. All the same, it didn't stop the dying nation from speaking. "You…protect Matthew. You…you must…do what I couldn't…y…you…_you_ finish the job."

Alfred felt his limbs grow cold along with his heart. His blue eyes widened with the weight of the request that was suddenly laid upon him. The burden was sudden and heavy and dooming. And it terrified him. He felt himself start to tremble. The stranger before him locked eyes with him and for a moment, he felt the connection. There was no denying it now. There was no way in heaven or hell that this man _wasn't_ him. Alfred knew that it was. He could see the reflection of himself in his eyes. He could see the ghost that he once was. And that, was perhaps, the most terrifying thing of all.

The light in the soldier's eyes started to fade. He lay his head back down in Arthur's arms. Staring up at the ceiling, it became clear that he was now looking at something far beyond the house they were all in, and ever farther still than just America the country, or even the world. With the last of his life, he grabbed onto Matthew with his good hand. He gripped him, almost desperately. But it only lasted a second. For after that, his hand fell slack along with the rest of his body. And as soon as he was gone and had finally given up the fight, he relaxed and fell limply in his families arms.


	5. My Brother

**Chapter 5**

My Brother

For several long, torturous seconds, it was silent. The weight of such silence weighed on them all. Only the soft ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard, and the slight 'plip' 'plip' of the dead man's blood which still dripped to the carpeted floor.

But then a new sound was introduced to the room. The remaining America suddenly started breathing quickly, and deeply. He took in air viciously through his teeth. And only a few seconds later, he was hyperventilating. Covered in a cold sweat, he stared at his own body, lying dead in his families arms. His body shuddered, and a second later, he opened his mouth and screamed.

Horrified beyond anything he ever imagined, it was all he could really do. It shattered the silence of the moment, giving voice to something everyone in the room was feeling. His scream lasted several seconds before dying away. Once it did, he stood frozen for only a few seconds more, staring at his own demise.

But then, with a trembling hand, he reached in beneath his jacket. And pulling his hand back out, he had a gun firmly gripped in his shaking palm. Lifting it, he aimed it at Prussia who was standing just as shocked as everyone else on the other side of the room. But although America had drawn a weapon, it was clear that he was completely torn about what it was he should do. Holding the grip with both palms to try and steady his sight, the gun still shivered and trembled along with the rest of him. All the same, he kept the muzzle pointed at the foreign country, sucking air in hysterically through his teeth.

Prussia turned to stare wide eyed at America. It was one of the few times in his life when he had nothing to say. His red eyes were huge and haunted. He didn't believe the things the dead America had said. How could he? Why would he betray Matthew? Gilbert raised his hands into the air in an 'I surrender' pose and stayed that way. He didn't try to run. He was in too much denial for that. He had no reason to run. He'd done nothing wrong.

"The awezome me would never do that! I love Matthew!" He announced to everyone in the room. He looked back over at his boyfriend who was clutching the dead America and sobbing loudly. It hurt to hear his boyfriend so heartbroken, but Prussia knew he could not go to Canada. He couldn't hold him or be with him, and it hurt.

Britain held the body of his dead son in one arm and with the other he held onto Matthew as well. As much as Britain didn't want to leave either of his son's sides; he knew things had to be done. Matthew was clutching his dead brother and sobbing uncontrollably into his body. Britain felt sympathy well up within him for his sensitive son. Of course the chap would be overwhelmed. Who could describe this kind of shitty day? When you found out your boyfriend of a few hours would ultimately betray and kill you. Watching a future version of your brother die? It was inconceivable. As much as a part of Britain was telepathically willing Alfred to simply pull the trigger and be done with the problem another part of him was thinking better of it. Germany could take a lot of things. Arthur was pretty sure if they sent Gilbert home beaten to a pulp Germany would be able to find blame with his brother. Everyone knew Prussia could be an ass deserving of a beating every now and then. However, if they sent Gilbert home in a coffin for a crime he had yet to commit there would be hell to pay. Germany loved his older brother like Matthew and Alfred loved each other. As such Britain knew they couldn't outright shoot the damned albino. They would quickly have a war on their hands, and they'd be at fault. No one believed in black magic anymore. No one would believe this story. They would think America had simply murdered Prussia in cold blood. Britain knew he couldn't let that happen. A war with Germany would be chaos.

"Alfred." Britain's voice cracked on the word. His throat felt dry as he said his son's name. He was somewhat afraid his living son would vanish. He also didn't want to startle the terrified country by speaking too loudly or by saying the wrong thing. Britain had never seen America so on edge. America looked crazed at the moment, and Britain pushed himself onward through his own tumultuous emotions to talk to his son with a steadfast voice,

"Alfred. Put the gun down. Listen to me, love. Put it down." He unwrapped his arm from the dead America. Slowly he let Canada go as well and reached out towards the living Alfred. _God__**.**_ He thought as he saw his blood covered hands. It was all over him now, and Matthew who was clutching his dead brother was covered in it as well.

"Alfred. Put the gun down." Britain said gently, but firmly once more.

Before another word could be uttered Alfred was startled out of his thoughts as another familiar voice came from the hallway outside the room.

France had received a text the previous day from his son. Matthew had texted him asking about opinions on love. France was always more than eager to talk about love with anybody. He had questioned Matthew as much as he could over the phone via text, and when France had heard that Matthew, Arthur, Alfred, and Gilbert where under one roof. Well, he couldn't wait to come to the house party. Especially when Matthew had said they'd be there for a few more days. France had expected to argue with Britain, harass America, tease Matthew on love, and goof off with his old friend. He never expected to find the second floor of America's home filled with bullet holes. He was shocked by the state of the hallway. He had heard Matthew wailing as soon as he'd opened the front door and had run upstairs to find this…this _hell_.

He could see America standing in the doorway to one of the guest rooms. He could only see America's trembling backside, but France knew Alfred was holding a gun by the way he was standing with his arms outstretched. France could hear Matthew crying inside the room. He could also hear Arthur speaking to Alfred in a calm, gentle voice. The Frenchman dropped the wine he'd brought to the floor as he stared at Alfred's back. Concerned and confused he quickly called out,

"Oh mon Dieu. Ce qui s'est passé en Amérique?" (Oh my God. What has happened America?) _What was happening here?_ "Amerique." France took a step towards the super power. Slowly he held his hand out towards America's back, "What are you doing?"

Then he quickly called out to Arthur who he had heard, but not yet seen, "Angleterre! What is happening?"

America, rightfully so, was rather unsteady at the moment. Watching himself die, and hearing about a future so horrific, he wouldn't have even dreamed Hell could be so wretched, made him desperate to prevent any of it from taking place. Before the America from the future had arrived, Alfred had just been telling Matthew that he'd take care of him, protect him. That if Gilbert ever did anything to upset him, he'd do what any good big brother would do, and he'd go beat him senseless. But…he never imagined something like this. He never could have imagined kidnapping, torture, bombings, death… Alfred had never imagined that anything at all could ever really, truly happen to either Canada or America.

Both countries were so strong. He'd always had faith that they could survive anything. No election, no hurricane, no revolution or civil war or great depression or anything had ever taken the brothers down. They were young as far as countries went…but both had participated in several wars. A few too many in fact…for both of their tastes. But…they had always survived. Together. To see it all crumble before him, to see himself die, to hear of Matthew dying…it was too much.

And so, hands shaking, he kept his gun fixated on Prussia. An older version of himself had given him specific instructions. And that older version of America was so intense, so much more intimidating than Alfred ever thought he could be…he felt compelled to do as he wished. He'd died for this. He'd sacrificed himself for this, so that everyone else might live. That America…even though only a few years older…had seemed so much stronger, so much wiser…so much more than what he was now. Alfred couldn't help but to think he had to have known what he was doing. If this was the only way…and he passed that responsibility onto him…then…

"Alfred. Put the gun down." Came the soft, familiar voice from his left. "Listen to me, love. Put it down." America inhaled deeply, taking in a shuddered, frightened breath. He wanted to listen to Arthur. He really did. But…he couldn't erase the intensity he'd felt when he'd locked eyes with his future self. He couldn't erase that feeling of desperation he'd felt from him. He was vaguely aware that Britain was carefully and slowly approaching him, but he dared not tear his gaze away from Prussia.

"Alfred. Put the gun down." Britain said gently, but firmly. America trembled in place, torn between shooting Prussia, and causing a war that he knew would come with Germany…or letting him live and then possibly losing Matt.

_No! I won't ever lose Matt like that! Not the way that America described! I won't ever let that happen! I won't! I won't! _ And just as he thought he'd convinced himself to do it, he heard another familiar voice come up from behind him. It was French. And obviously, it belonged to France. Now he was surrounded on both sides by both parents. Although Alfred had always been more attached to Arthur rather than Francis, France was still a big part of his upbringing and not to mention his revolution and independence. He couldn't help but to hesitate with him suddenly being present.

"Amerique." France took a step towards the super power he held his hand out towards him, "What are you doing?"

Since he was approaching from behind, America couldn't see his outstretched hand. Covered in sweat, he still didn't move, torn between extreme courses of action. It wasn't until France gently placed a hand on his shoulder that he flinched at the sudden contact. With a startled cry, he accidentally pulled the trigger, and the gun went off. Thankfully, because he'd flinched, his aim was off and a hole appeared in the wall just a few inches from Prussia's head. Matthew screamed.

But as soon as the ringing in his ears started to settle, America knew he couldn't follow through with it. If he was trying to prevent a war…was starting one really the answer? And…Matthew. He looked to him. He looked so terrified, hunched over the future America's body. He was crying…and covered with blood. Alfred could hardly stand it. And he knew…that if he were to kill Prussia…he certainly could never do it in front of his little bro. He'd been through enough. And as his bog brother…it was his job to protect him.

Letting out a rush of air, America lowered his gun. Holding it out, he firmly placed it into Arthur's outstretched hand. Then he simply stood, breathing for a moment to get himself under control.

Arthur took the gun and quickly put the safety on. Then he shoved the weapon into the loop of his belt. He closed the distance to his son and threw his arms around Alfred squeezing him horrendously tight. He held the slightly larger nation to his chest and took in a shuddering breath. He had to remind himself that his son was still alive.

Alfred was still absorbing all of the shock too, but even as unbelievable and horrifying as everything was, when Arthur came to him, throwing his arms around him, he seemed to unfreeze a bit.

Not normally the touchy-feely type, for a moment like this, Alfred could have cared less. He threw his arms around his father, giving him a big, tight, very painful squeeze. He didn't say a word, and he didn't have to. It was good just to feel his heart beat.

"I'm fine…" he reassured the older country. After their hug, Britain stepped away from the doorway of the room pulling Alfred with him so France could enter. He looked over his shoulder every now and then keeping an eye on Prussia. France stepped into the room his eyes growing large at the sight before him. France looked to Gilbert who was standing off by himself with a smoking bullet hole next to his head. Then he looked across the room and down to his blood covered son, and was that America? On the floor? Was he dead? France's mind raced as he tried to think of an answer for what he was seeing.

"Angleterre?" France's voice was barely more than a whisper as he stared at the lifeless America on the floor, "Did your black magic have anything to do with this?" France had known Britain all his life. France was no stranger to a few boggled up spells. It had happened a few times over the course of their existence. He prayed this was another one of those weird spells acting up because there was such a feeling of horror, dread, and sorrow in the room that the terrible feelings were almost tangible. Seeing America dead on the floor was too disturbing to put into words.

"Get Matthew." Britain said to his older brother, "We need to get them out of here. We can take them to Alfred's room, but for God's sake keep them together and keep Prussia away." Arthur didn't want to let either nation out of his sight or to separate them in anyway. Arthur had a feeling that getting Matthew away from his dead brother would be close to impossible, but it had to be done.

France had gone to his blood covered son in horror. He spoke in French and tried to calm Matthew out of his hysterics, but he eventually had to pull Matthew away from his dead brother kicking and screaming. The smaller of the two twins could put up a hell of a fight. France kept talking to Matthew as he tried to pull him away and return to his dead brother's side. Eventually France said something with a very firm tone and reached out grabbing Matthew. He wasn't trying to be mean, but he did have to force his son to turn away from the dead body on the floor and look at his living brother who was standing next to the doorway. Matthew stared at his living twin with a hollow look. His eyes were dull from shock and sorrow. The shock he had just suffered to his system was making him numb, but Matthew did see Alfred standing. Alive. Unhurt.

It only took a moment before Matthew tore away from his papa. He pushed himself up off the floor and took a very shaky step towards his living twin. His body trembled uncontrollably as adrenaline started to drain from his system. He had barely taken a few steps when everything started to fade to black. The shock pushed him over the edge, and Matthew hit the floor, completely unconscious. Holding his twin while he died was one of Canada's worst nightmares left over from America's civil war, and he had just lived through it. It had been far too much for the kind hearted nation.

"Matthieu!" France cried and went to move towards his son.

Prussia went to step towards his fallen boyfriend as well. A look of worry etched into his face, but Britain quickly pulled America's gun from his belt. Britain quickly clicked the safety to off in one smooth motion. He aimed it level at the albino's head. Unlike his son he didn't shake in the least. Britain had been a pirate, an executioner, and led one too many dark events in his lifetime to let his fear show through here. With an unwavering voice he warned Prussia,"Do not go anywhere near him you arsehole. I will not miss." Britain warned.

Alfred was still absorbing all of the shock too, but even as unbelievable and horrifying as everything was, he was in better shape than his brother. He had, unfortunately, suffered a lot more violence over his short life span than Canada had, so perhaps he was a bit more numb to it. Or maybe, he was just that good at pushing upsetting things aside so that he could function when need be. All the same, it didn't stop the jolt of fear that zipped through his heart when Matthew fainted, and fell to the floor.

"Matt!" Alfred was at his side in a heartbeat, already horrified that he was somehow hurt, that something had happened. "Bro!" He fell to his knees, then reached out, scooping him up into his strong arms with ease. He cradled him, firmly, holding him to himself possessively.

His little brother looked horrid. He was smeared with blood. _My blood?_ It was such a strange thing…seeing his own blood, smelling it…but not being injured. Alfred reached out a hand, smoothing Matthew's tangled hair. He was pale, and sweaty, and looked ill from the shock.

Looking up, to make sure they were safe, he saw that Arthur had Prussia at bay with his gun. Knowing he had to get Matt out of there, America slowly stood, still keeping an iron grip on his little brother. Then, carefully, he started to back out of the violent room, keeping his eyes on his future enemy. Stepping past France and into the hall, he remained in the doorway for only a few seconds, looking at was left of the room before him. Then he turned away and ran back down the hall with his brother.

He raced down the hall and to the stairwell. There was no way he was ever going to put Matt in a bedroom on the second floor ever again. And for that matter, he wasn't sure if he'd ever set foot on the second floor himself until the day he died. His mind going further still, he toyed with the idea of demolishing it as he raced down the stairs. And once on the first floor landing, he looked out around himself and immediately felt better.

This was his house. Normal. So normal looking. Nothing was destroyed. There were no bullet holes, or blood, or crazy dead versions of himself from the future. This was just…his house. And it was so normal in fact that Alfred briefly wondered if he'd just had some strange mind trip, perhaps left over from the 60's when he used to do drugs.

But looking down to his brother told him it wasn't so. His blood was still all over him.

_He can't wake up with that stuff still on him…he'll freak again…_ he thought. And so, quickly, he came to a conclusion about a course of action. Moving a bit more calmly now, but his heart still racing, he stepped over to the nearest bathroom. (His house was huge and he had several.) Stepping inside, he then closed and locked the door behind him…mainly because he was still scared. Calming down a bit, yes…but Prussia was still in his house. And he wanted nothing more than to make sure Matthew was safe.

"I'll take care of you little bro. Just like I promised," he said to him. "I won't let anything happen to you…that's what big brothers are for." Looking around, he spotted his bathmat which was fairly plush and expensive. He bought a lot of expensive things, even considering his country was six trillion dollars in debt. Gently, he crouched down and lay Matt down on top of it. Letting him go so he could examine him, he looked him over quickly. He was fairly dirty, and Alfred knew he couldn't really clean him up whilst saving his pajamas. But…of course…he didn't have a change of clothes for him in here.

_Well I can't leave him like this…_ Coming to another quick conclusion, America decided to remove his clothes and clean him up anyway. He was his brother and they'd grown up taking baths together. It was no big deal. Besides…he knew if positions were reversed, Matt would do the same for him, and no one else (other than maybe Arthur) would have been acceptable.

Twenty minutes or so later, Canada was clean and fully covered in a soft robe which Alfred had found in the linen closet. He'd wrapped him up tightly, and then proceeded to sit down on the floor, pressing his back into the corner by the tub. He'd scooped Matthew back up into his arms and was now clutching him possessively all over again with his original iron grip.

The plan had been to leave the bathroom and take him to one of the downstairs guest rooms where he could rest comfortably in a bed…but now…the idea of leaving the bathroom at all seemed so dangerous. Alfred didn't know where Prussia was at the moment. And he found himself suddenly very worried about both of his fathers.

Prussia was just a ghost nation right? He couldn't hurt Britain or France…right? But there was suddenly so much doubt and fear. Alfred never had imagined a world were America could be taken down after all. And yet…

He held Matthew to himself all the tighter.

"I'll keep you safe bro," he said again. "I'm right here, and I'm fine. Please wake up." He really, really wanted Matthew to wake up. He wanted to see his eyes open and hear his shy, timid, voice. It was the only way he'd know he was really all right. He wanted to reassure him of everything. He wanted to show him that he was alive and well and whole. And once Matt saw how alive and strong he still was, he'd feel safe, right? America was certain he could keep him safe. The other Alfred from the future was wrong. He must have done something crazy and stupid to have let something so awful happen. _Well that's not gunna be me!_ Alfred thought. _I'll never let Matt outta my sight! _

Britain held the gun on Prussia for much longer than was needed. He had to work past a large amount of inner turmoil in order to take the gun off of the albino. Eventually he let the gun fall to his side and harmlessly point at the floor, but Arthur never reengaged the safety. He kept it armed and in his hand for a feeling of security. After a moment of awkward silence France was quickly asking questions. Britain filled France in on everything that had happened. Britain recounted everything in great detail while Prussia stayed still and silent on his side of the room. A few hours ago France would have thought of that as an impossible feat for the normally loudmouthed albino. At the end of the story France looked to the future America who now lay dead on the floor. Britain couldn't bring himself to look back to the body of his dead son, so in the end France covered the body with a sheet. Both fathers' wanted this future America to be lain to rest with proper honors, but they would have to get everything about the current crisis under control before they could do that. Seeing as Britain was busy glaring at Prussia, France decided it would be best if he moved the body onto a bed until they could hold a proper funeral.

Eventually France took charge of Prussia. Britain wouldn't have Prussia anywhere near anything or anyone at the moment. He especially didn't want him near either of his sons. Not wanting to stay in the tomb France and Gilbert went downstairs. The old friends retreated to a different guest room all together. They locked themselves inside the room. In truth Prussia needed a moment just like everybody else, so he didn't mind. Prussia was also glad that it was France at his side. He could unwind around his old friend, and both of them knew France would never allow harm to come to his son. Not even from his old world friend. With France guarding Prussia, Britain felt it was safe and went after his two sons. He needed to see them. He needed to see them alive, and he needed to do that now. So he searched the house until he came across a closed and locked bathroom door.

In the bathroom Matthew was starting to come around. He felt strong, warm arms wrap around his body long before he opened his indigo eyes. Matthew could tell that it was Alfred before he heard his brother's voice say, "I'll keep you safe bro." Matthew had to do a double take of his brother's voice. Alfred's voice sounded slower and much quieter. It was different from how the excitable nation normally spoke. Alfred's voice sounded more sincere. In fact Matthew had never heard his brother sound so sincere. Matthew's head felt like it was full of fuzz, but he did feel safe and warm. The entire trauma from upstairs was pushed into one of the far crevices of his mind and he was confused. That's when Canada heard his brother say, "I'm right here, and I'm fine. Please wake up?"

_Why does he sound like that?_ Matthew thought to himself. _He sounds like I'm going to vanish._ Pushing passed the fog in his head Canada whispered to his twin, "Al." His quiet voice was also hoarse from all the abuse it had been suffering. He opened his eyes slowly. They were tinged red from crying, and slightly hazy from the shock he'd experienced, but he would recover. Matthew reached up grabbing a hold of his brother. Alfred was right there and suddenly seeing America's face made Canada's memories resurface. He remembered the future America. He quickly put both of his hands on Alfred's face. His fingers moved along Alfred's head. He could feel that his brother had hair and two eyes; there was no eye patch or blood. Matthew could see that America's skin was a normal color and not tan from fighting outside all day. America was slightly larger from eating one too many burgers, and there was no hint of injury anywhere on his twin. Matthew could feel, touch, and talk to his brother. Alfred wasn't dead. He exhaled all the air that had subconsciously gotten caught up in his lungs during his mild panic. Matthew's blue eyes went to examine his own hand then. It was clean. There was no blood. _Was that all a dream?_ _Please say it had all been a dream Please tell me I was having some horrible dream_. He looked around for any hints that he'd simply dreamed the events of earlier in the day. He was in a bathrobe on the floor in his brother's bathroom. _Maybe I hit my head while taking a shower? _He thought to himself. Unfortunately, that is when his eyes landed on his old, bloody pile of clothes. They were discarded in the trash bin. Matthew felt his heart rate pick up. He pushed his feet against the tile and the rug on the bathroom floor to push himself further away from what was left of his bloodied PJ's and the nightmare he'd just lived through. He pushed himself back against his brother until he couldn't move further away from the articles of clothing in the trash bin. Matthew reached behind him and haphazardly grabbed a hand full of Alfred's hair. He wasn't trying to hurt Alfred, but he just wanted to keep a hold of him. He had to know his twin was ok, and Alfred's hair was really the only thing he could clutch with his back against his brother.

"A-A-Alf-Alfred" The Northern twin stuttered horridly on his brother's name. "That wa- was- that was a dream. It was a dream right? I hi-hit my head. Gilbert hit me in the head a few days a-ago. This is second impact syndrome. Right? O-or I'm crazy, right?" He squeezed Alfred's hair tighter as the tears started to come back to his eyes. A part of him was relieved. Oh so relieved. His brother was there with him. Alfred was alive, but all that had happened. All that his future brother had said came flooding back to him as well, and it hurt. Canada's second hand went to his chest clutching the fabric of the bathrobe he was wearing. He clung to the fabric just above his heart. It really hurt. He bit his bottom lip as the moisture in his eyes started to leak out and down his face. He never knew his heart could hurt this much and still keep beating.

Alfred was so incredibly relieved when Matthew started to wake up, so relieved when he said his name, and so relieved when he saw his indigo colored eyes start to open.

"Bro," he said happily, his usual smile returning. But that was until Matthew fully came around, and suddenly seemed very upset and scared all over again. And then he grabbed onto Alfred's golden hair.

"A-Ah! Oww! Ouch! Dude! I-stop!" But Alfred, in fact, grabbed on even tighter to his smaller brother. Alfred, not daring to ever let him go in the state he was in, and also needing to keep a firm hold onto his brother for his own sanity, instead just tilted his head down to try and relieve some of the pressure. Canada pulled his head down further still until he was stuck, crouched against his bathroom wall.

Alfred hissed in pain, and tears sprang into his eyes from the sting of it, but he didn't try to pull out of Matthews grasp. He knew he needed him.

"M-Matt, man…dude! Ouch!" Holding onto his brother in what he hoped was a comforting way, despite the abuse he was suffering; he tried to figure out a way to calm his Northern twin down.

"Bro, it wasn't a dream. We had a pretty fucked up day. But…it's ok! Really. Ya know why? Because I'm right here. And if I'm here, then…all that future stuff hasn't happened yet. None of that stuff that that me from the future talked about is ever gunna happen. Ok? I'm not that guy. That guy wasn't me. I'm here and I'm fine and I'm alive and strong and as awesome as always!" He tried to flash a smile through his wince.

"I'm not like that guy. I'm going to protect you and keep you safe. I'm your big bro man! That's what big bro's are for. Yeah? So you don't have to worry about any of that crazy stuff that just happened. Ok?" He winced again, hissing from the pain.

"…uh…dude. If you're feeling better…could you…let go of my hair? It really hurts!"

Matthew listened to everything Alfred had said. He slowly told his hand to let go of Alfred's hair. He sniffed once and brought his second hand to his face wiping off the tears that seemed to be plaguing him. He took in a shaky breath, but then thought about what his brother was saying. None of it was a dream. So he had to face the facts of what his future brother had said. At least his brother seemed to be gaining some semblance of normalcy again. Alfred was starting to talk like he always had, with that Hero complex. Well at least he didn't have to worry about his brother. America would be ok. That was one weight off of his chest.

Matthew found himself torn about the mind numbing facts he had heard about his boyfriend. Of all the things his future brother had said to him…. Future America would have had no way of knowing that he'd already been too late to keep certain things from happening. Matthew had already let Gilbert into his heart. He'd been hanging out with the albino nation for a year or more now. He wouldn't have kept seeing Prussia in all that time if he hadn't enjoyed it. It had been just that morning when Matthew realized how much he enjoyed the albino's company. He'd realized it when Gilbert said he would leave and never come back if Matthew wanted that. Well he didn't want that! He had said he didn't want that, but here it was being thrown back in his face like a bucket of ice water. What his future brother had said made his insides squirm, and his heart break. He didn't want to hear that someone he cared so much about had betrayed him in such a way. Someone he loved had ultimately killed him? That seemed impossible, but should he risk such a thing. He'd just watched his brother die because of what happened in the future. There was no way America would have killed himself trying to come back in time to protect his little brother if what he'd said had been a lie.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked the air. He wasn't speaking to Alfred, but he was sure his brother would have some type of answer. Luckily Alfred didn't have time to answer because Britain started knocking on the bathroom door.

"Alfred. Matthew. Are you in there?" Britain tried the doorknob, but it was locked, "Can you open the door please?"

Matthew found himself looking up and staring at the closed bathroom door. He loved his family to be sure. He'd die for any of his family members, but he was like the outsider even within his family. They were all outgoing, vibrant, and spent a lot of time together and with others. In all honesty Alfred generally went to Arthur more than he felt the need to come and talk with his twin. Matthew had finally found someone who he fit with. Someone who always knew his name, damn it! Someone who never treated him like he was invisible! Someone who had never tried to take over his nation by burning down his parliament building, MAPLE! Matthew reached up grabbing his own pounding head. This was too much for one day.

"Uhh…" Alfred mumbled, not really sure what to say to either Britain or Matthew. He rubbed his scalp, which had finally been released, but was still pounding. "Dude…you messed my amber waves of grain…"

He rubbed it just a bit more, then tried to figure out what he should do. He looked to Canada. He was still so upset. Alfred wanted to fix it and make it better for him…but…had no idea what to tell him. Matthew had that expression on again. The one he wore earlier in the day. The look that let Alfred know for sure that he had true feelings for Prussia.

"Well shit," he mumbled. Then they couldn't just kick Prussia to the curb like he wanted? "Uhh…umm…well…we could…uh…" Britain knocked on the door a second time, this time much more insistently. Alfred sighed heavily.

"Oh my God keep your pants on Arty!" He called. America's main concern was still his little brother. "Matt, are you ready to face mom? I could keep you in here longer if you need me to." He grinned mischievously, he was always happy to tease Britain a little bit. And in all honestly, if the mood didn't lighten up soon…well…Alfred didn't know how to handle such tense situations otherwise.

Britain stood just outside the bathroom door. His foot was impatiently tapping against the floor. Britain was tired of waiting. With a few lock-picking moves that he had left over from his pirating days Britain let himself into the bathroom. As he pushed the door open he mumbled something about cheap modern locks. Then he stepped into the bathroom and studied his two former colonies. America looked to be coming around, but Canada still seemed lost and considerably upset. Britain found himself relieved beyond words that both of them were awake and safe though. Arthur let out a heavy sigh and came to kneel in front of the two younger nations. He reached out putting his hand on Matthew's head, "There we are. You will be ok, love. " He gently ruffled up Matthew's hair, "Come on you two. Let's get out of here and go to the living room. France is watching the albino bastard. We won't see him. Everything will be ok." He gently ran his hand through Matthew's hair trying to reassure his second son, but Britain recognized the look on the Northern twins face. He knew Matthew was torn up with grief from not only his brother's death but his boyfriend's future betrayal as well. Britain brought his hand to his face and shook his head slowly, "Oh God…. This is a disaster. Who am I kidding? " Britain turned to stare at America. His thick eyebrows furrowing together, "What did you say to him?"

Alfred lifted his eyes to Arthur from his spot on his bathroom floor.

"I told him…everything would be fine," he answered truthfully. "That I'm right here, I'm fine. And none of that future stuff has happened yet. So…and I'll protect him…" But it had been a rather touching moment with his little brother, and it was suddenly hard to repeat to his father figure without feeling embarrassed. Cheeks pinkening just a tad, he quickly moved to get up.

"Well whatever. All we have to do is make sure Prussia doesn't go ape shit, right?" Having never let go of Matt, Alfred stood up, whilst holding onto his shoulders. He helped him to his feet, but even then wouldn't release him. It was clear that even though he may have been 'talking the talk' as he usually did, his actions were somewhat different from what they once were.

"Bro, you wanna sit on the couch or something? You need some coffee?"

"None of that horrible imported stuff you bought from Columbia." Britain interjected, "I'm sure he wants tea anyway." Britain stood up as well and walked with the two brothers to the living room.

Canada didn't rightly care where he went or he went with. He simply walked with Alfred to the living room and sat down on the much more comfy couch with his family. Alfred sat on one side of him and Arthur on the other. Matthew felt a bit odd being the center of attention, and he fell of into silence once he was on the couch. His thoughts racing he kept thinking to himself.

Britain leaned forward looking over at Canada, "Matthew. You've been here for about a week now. How much longer until you have to go back home?"

Canada didn't respond. In fact he didn't do anything until Britain put his hand on his shoulder drawing him back out of his thoughts. Canada blinked and looked over at his second father. He thought about what Britain had said and finally responded, "I… uh…. My boss was yelling at me last night. I need to leave by tomorrow. I have to be back working the day after. I can get my mind off of all this stuff at least." He reached up running his hand through his messy hair in order to get it back the way he wanted it.

Britain nodded. He would also have to be leaving soon, and suddenly he found himself just wanting to stay near his son's, "We should call Germany to come escort Prussia home. I want him to be watched all the way back. America. Are you ok with that? We should explain the situation openly. I believe we can trust Ludwig to watch his brother."

America nodded firmly. He felt like they could trust Germany too. The country was a lot more levelheaded in this day and age then he used to be. Besides, if what future America said was right, then it meant Germany really had no idea anything was going on until much later after Canada had been taken over. If that was the case, Alfred imagined Germany would want to stop his brother from ever doing something so drastic. No country wanted to piss of America, England, and France all in one go. They were rather formidable (well maybe not France...), but it was another reason America was having a hard time ever believing they could lose a war.

"Yeah," he agreed. "He'd probably help us keep an eye on that crazy psycho." Then he glanced at Canada once more. "If Matt has to go back home so soon…then I'm going with him."

Britain blinked at Alfred's response, "You have been sick for a week now. We have all been here for it. America you cannot afford to skip out on your work. Your boss will have your arse."

"It's ok, Al." Canada turned to his brother and smiled in a sad, broken way. He was obviously still upset by his boyfriend's future betrayal, but he was pushing himself forward, "Don't worry. I'll be fine." He laughed a bit, "You haven't been to my house all year." Then Canada tried to remember the last time Alfred had come by his home. And why had he come? America always complained Canada's home was too small and cold and dull and… too Canadian. _When was the last time?_ Canada shrugged his shoulders, "Now it's getting close to winter. You hate the cold and you'll complain the whole time."

"I don't care about all that," America objected, then quickly crossed his arms over his chest. "You seriously think I'm gunna let you just…go home and disappear into that ice land of yours after the story we just heard? Dude, no. Who do you take me for, hmm? You think my promises aren't serious? I just told you, I'm going to protect you. My boss'll just have to get along without me for a little while." And man, if there was ever a time that America seemed serious, it was now.

Britain's green eyes grew larger. This was not good. America was a lot of things, but perhaps one of his worst qualities was his damn stubborn streak. Britain would have to hope that after being with his brother for a few days America would simply come home.

Canada stared at his brother. He blinked a few times and then let a genuine smile take over his face, "I know Alfred. I know you'll protect me. I have never doubted you." He smirked as a thoughtful look crossed over his face, "Except that one time, but I forgave you for that a long time ago." He reached out and gently punched his brother on his shoulder. Then slowly he stood up on his own two feet, "I'm thirsty. I'll go make tea for everybody."

"Matthieu." France came walking down the hall. Prussia wasn't with him, but France said something to his son in a language that America and Britain couldn't understand.

"Papa. Non." Matthew rolled his eyes and shot a disgruntled look his first papa's way.

"What are you saying to him, FROG? Aren't you supposed to be _watching_ someone?" Britain shot a glare at France as he stood up and looked down the hallway to see if Prussia was anywhere nearby. Luckily, he didn't see the albino.

America was immediately on his feet, his blue eyes wide.

"Where the hell is that freak?" He asked, his voice a bit higher in pitch than it should have been, betraying the fact that perhaps he was still a bit more shaken than he was letting on. Not knowing where Prussia had gone to, he instead ran back over to his brother's side, standing by him protectively once more.

"I'll come with you to make that tea, bro," he said. "Arty, why don't you give Germany a buzz? Francis…do whatever the hell you want…"

France looked around the room at all of the anxious nations. Eventually France came over to his wavy haired son and stood in front of Canada. Once again France was talking in that abominable language Alfred couldn't follow. Once he finished what he was saying Matthew shifted uncomfortably on his feet. For the sake of his brother Canada responded in English. He knew Alfred wanted to know what they were talking about. He also had nothing to hide, "Papa…. I don't want to talk to Gilbert right now. Please. Tell him I'm thinking, but I'm not angry. I'm just really confused. Tell him we can talk later. I promise." Matthew said quietly under his breath. France understood and he reached out and patted Matthew's head reassuringly. Then France went back off down the hallway to go find Prussia once more.

Britain stared at his older brother and then at Canada from a distance while they conversed, but he didn't say anything out loud. Britain knew he couldn't keep Prussia and Canada apart especially if after all this Canada still wanted to talk with Prussia. It wasn't really something he was for or against, but he didn't want his son to get hurt. Britain realized then that he was going to have to get used to the idea of Prussia being with his son if that's what Matthew decided he wanted. He rolled his emerald eyes in disdain. He really hated that albino, but Canada was old enough to decide who he wanted to love without interference. Then he thought about what France and Canada had just talked about. He was a bit wary letting them close to each other. Especially after what his future son had just said, but in truth letting the two of them talk while the entire family was here was probably for the best. Britain made a conscious decision that he wouldn't interfere with whatever path Canada chose. He would make it clear though he'd only be a stone throw away if Matthew needed him for anything.

Finally after pulling himself out of his thoughts he went to find America's landline phone. Britain picked up the phone and was soon dialing the German nation across the sea. He was quietly thinking to himself as he listened to phone ring. _How do I start this conversation? Can you please come pick up your Prussian? _


	6. Germany

**Chapter 6**

Germany

The phone range, once, twice, three times, and then,

"Ciao! Questo è Feliciano! Hai raggiunto casa della Germania! Come posso rendere il vostro giorno meraviglioso?" It was clearly Italy's voice. The greeting came way too fast, and way too high pitched to be anyone else. Even if Arthur could understand Italian, he still wouldn't have been able to understand anything Italy had just said.

Britain's head was still hurting a little bit even before the high pitched Italian came on the phone. He would surely need a drink after this day.

"Italy. This is Britain. This is a very important call." He felt like he needed to stress that to the care free nation, "Is Germany there? Prussia is here and I need Germany to come and get him." Then Britain smacked himself in the head. He really couldn't trust Italy with all that important information. He needed to speak with Germany, "Italy can I speak with Germany. I have Prussia here."

"Ve! Oooh! You have Gilbert? We've been-a lookin' everywhere for 'im! Germany will be so a-happy when I-a-tell-a him the great news! Hold on! I'll go-and-a-getta Ludwig!" The sound of the phone being put down could be heard, and then off into the distance Arthur could hear Italy calling out "Germaniaaaaaah! Germaniaaaaahhhhh!"

There was a few second of silence, but then the loud, high pitched voice rose back up in the background, and this time, a much deeper one followed it. The two voices approached together.

"Ma è davvero importante!"

"Ich habe dir gesagt, mich nicht stören!"

"Ma la Germania!"

There was a bunch of clattering and then the phone was picked up again.

"Vhat is it? Who is dis? Dis had better be good!" Clearly Arthur had finally gotten the correct person on the phone.

"Oh thank God you are there!" Britain said with an exasperated sigh. He tried to quickly get to the point, by saying "This is Britain, Germany. Listen there has been some…circumstances over here, and I need you to come and get Gilbert. He is ok, but you have to come get him. Prussia is here at America's house."

"Vhat?!" Germany held the phone to his ear a bit more tightly, while fending Italy off with his other hand as Italy buzzed around him like some sort of horse fly. He'd been driving himself mad looking for the AWOL country all week long. Prussia had simply up and disappeared over a week ago. Always afraid of the worst, and always thinking of the worst possible scenario, Germany had half been convinced that he'd been killed. But now, to hear that he'd been at America's house the entire time…

"Vhat on earth 'as he been doing over dere for such a 'ong time? He didn't go over der just to challenge Amerika to avother drinking contest...did he?" He sighed heavily, his shoulders sinking. "Imbecile..."

"Germania! Germania! What is it? What's-a-happening? Tell me! Tellmetellmetellme!"

"Feliciano vould you please...shut da hell up? I'm tryink to listen!"

Britain rolled his eyes. _Poor Germany_, Britain thought to himself. He kept himself on track though and in a monotone voice said, "Prussia was not always here. He was shacking up with Canada or so it would seem. Then they came here to America's house and we caught them snogging upstairs."

Ludwig clutched his phone a bit more tightly. Had he heard correctly? Gilbert had been 'shaking up' with Canada? Wait…at America's house? Panic immediately set in. If this had been going on at America's house…and America caught Gilbert sleeping with Canada then…what would the super power do? Germany could easily imagine him getting infuriated and trying to punch a few holes in Gilbert with his ever present arsenal of guns.

"Ach Du Lieber…" Ludwing mumbled. For just a second, he allowed himself to face-palm. Of course, living with Italy, he often times ended up doing this more frequently than he would have liked.

"Germania! Germania! What is it? What? What? What's happening? Why won't you-a-tell-a me!" Ludwig swatted absent mindedly at the smaller country. Then, licking his lips, which had become dry, he gathered himself and spoke back into the receiver. Clearing his voice, he said,

"Gilbert...'as he been...murdered by Amerika?"

"Dio mio!" Italy shrieked. "Murdered? Gilbert nooo!"

"Felicio, for da last time, shtoppen!"

"Well it was an interesting topic of conversation for America and Prussia. It was also a bit one sided, but it would seem Canada fancies the snogging. Unfortunately, it seems we are all stuck. France is watching Prussia now so he is safe. Well as safe as he can be with France. You need to come get him though. Something else happened that I cannot talk about over the phone. We need to tell you about something that is even more serious. Please come as fast as possible, and I promise as an English gentleman that your brother will be ok until you get here."

"Ze Awezome me is not a prisoner, _damnit_! Iv donz _nothing wrong_! Birdie! I want to talk to you! Come out! "Prussia was screaming from down the hallway of America's home. He had stumbled out of the guest room he was currently in with France, and France was quietly following behind his obviously drunken friend observing the scene Prussia was making with a smile.

Britain turned from his phone conversation to the hallway for a moment. His eyes whitening with shock as he saw the drunken Prussian, and after a moment he turned back to the phone conversation.

"But Germany, the quicker you get here the better. In fact if you could get on a concord jet and be here by tonight that would be marvelous. I have to go. This could get ugly. Thanks Germany. We will see you then."

Prussia looked over at Britain and saw him talking away on the phone. He blinked his red eyes when Britain said his little brother's name. Quickly he stumbled his way towards Britain.

"...Iz that West? I want to speakz to West!" The drunken Prussian yelled. It was too late however. Britain slammed the phone down in anger and quickly turned his glare on France.

"FROG! Did you give him booze?" Britain yelled as France laughed.

"I figured it would be good for his nerves. He is having a tough time too, no?" France shrugged his shoulders.

"Damn you Frog!" Then Britain cursed as Prussia reached his side and stared at the phone for a moment.

Ludwig was left with a dial tone on the other end of the phone. For a few seconds, he just stood there in something close to shock. _Vhat de hell 'as happened?_ Sighing heavily, he decided he'd better just travel to America's house...even though that was something he couldn't even remember if he'd ever done before. They hadn't exactly fought together on the same side of the same wars. Already stressed he ran a hand over his slicked blonde hair.

"Alvright...Feliciano...I've got to travel to Amerika's hawse. You stay 'ere and stay ount of trouble."

"Awww no Germania! Don't-a-leave me 'ere all alone! I want-to-a come with you, ve? I could-a-keep you company! And we could-a-have-a so much fun together! It will be just-a- like-a vacation!"

"Nein! Dis is noughink like a vacation! Dis is a serious matter I 'ave to attend to! Gilbert's very life may hang in zee balance! Unt I don't need you screwing dis thing up! If you come along, you'll end up getting Gilbert killed!" Italy's face dropped as the puppy eyes quickly, and effectively took over.

"Aw, Germania, please? Please don't a leave me behind? Ve? Please? Please? I want-ta to-a come-a!"

"Nein!"

"Please?"

"Nein! Now go upstairs or I vill hit you!" Sulking, Italy finally did as told. With the walk of sadness he gloomily moved toward the stairwell. Putting one foot on the landing, head down, he paused just before going up. Looking out and back at Germany, he said,

"You'll-a...at least miss-a-me? Won't you Germania?" Germany sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world were resting solely on his shoulders and no one else's. He knew he had to say yes, or Italy would never shut the fuck up and go upstairs!

"Ja...now go avay!"

"YAAAY! Germania said he'd miss meeeee! Ve!" Finally, he turned and ran up the stairs like a child, clomping and making all sorts of noise. Germany sighed heavily all over again. It was time to pack.

Back at America's house, Alfred had Matthew in the kitchen and he was _trying_ to take care of him and make him feel more relaxed. He'd made some coffee (mostly for himself since Canada didn't like it much) but he'd also made some tea and some hot cocoa. Matt couldn't seem to make decisions at the moment and didn't seem like he knew what he wanted, so Alfred was prepared to just bring him everything.

But it wasn't long before he heard Prussia yelling like a drunken idiot from down the hall. Alfred had Matthew seated at the small kitchenette table he had by the window, but as soon as the noise started up, he got up and out of his seat.

"Dude, stay here, I've got this." Stepping up to the kitchen doorway, he put himself in its frame, blocking the entranceway entirely. And there he stayed, feet planted like a tank. Lifting his eyes, he quickly shot a glare of death the albino country's way.

"Dude, if you know what's good for you, you'll turn right back around and leave Matt alone! He's not ready to talk to you right now man. And not to mention, I'm kinda pissed about things too! So unless you want a good punch in the face you can turn your ass back around!"

The chain of command seemed to have broken down in America's living room, or one might have said it had returned to normal. France and Britain, like always, stood bickering about the situation while Prussia drunkenly meandered around the room looking for Canada in the most ludicrous spaces. When America started to yell at him Prussia turned to face the younger country with a face of anger.

"Lizen boy!" Prussia pointed his finger America's way, but he didn't approach further. His finger wavered a bit in his drunken state. "This has nothing to do wid you! He's my boyfriend! He zaid zo 'emself! I havz done nuding wrong! I donz care what that future you said! I am awzome, zo ztuff it! Matthew! Do you hear me! I wanz to talkz! Pleaze!" Prussia shouted across the room as loudly as he could. He was hoping his boyfriend could hear him.

Meanwhile Britain and France seemed to be carrying on an argument of their own. Britain swatted at France.

"You arse! You bloody arse! You got him fall down drunk! Where did you even get the liquor from? Now is not the time to drink!"

"Now. Now. Angleterre. America has plenty of alcohol, and Prussia needed to relieve some stress. He is having a bad day too, no? This is good for mon petit Matthieu. I can tell mon petite Canada likes my inebriated friend here. Letting them talk will not hurt."

"It's too early! You saw upstairs! Are you daft! Pushing Matthew will accomplish nothing!" Britain said loudly as he fought for what he thought would be best for his son, "Just give him some time you stupid, Frog! They'll talk if and when Matthew is ready!"

France didn't seem fazed by Britain's speech. He did however reiterate his point of view.

"The longer this lingerz on the more Matthieu will be suffering. We are all here. It is ok to let them talk. Prussia cannot hurt Matthieu. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Qu'est-ce que Papa." (What the hell, Papa.) Matthew groaned from inside the kitchen. He let his face fall into his open palms as he simply shook his head. His mind was still too garbled to carry on the serious conversation he needed to have with Prussia. As such he didn't want to face the albino at the moment, and for once in his life he just wanted his twin to handle it. Canada didn't want America to hurt Prussia. He just wanted more time.

And just like that, things seemed to go back to normal. America fumed, and then began rolling up his sleeves.

"Watch out buddy! I've been itching for a reason to kick your ass! And you're just giving me one!" Marching across the room, the two countries appeared as if they were going to go at it all over again for the third time that week; just like in the manner they'd met at the bar, and just like in Matthew's bedroom just before the catastrophe. In a way, it could have even been relieving for poor Canada. Because now, everyone was acting the way they normally did.

"You wanna go, bro? And why the hell are you so drunk? Did you _steal_ my expensive booze?"

"Yorz cheap azz booze is pathetic!" Prussia yelled back. Pointing a finger at America, "I canz barely tellz itz alcohol!"Then just like that Prussia and America were at it again.

But one way or another, the group somehow managed to survive the day. France had given Gilbert more than a fair share of America's liquor cabinet by the time night rolled around, and by then Britain had locked the two of them up in a guest room where they sang, drank, and forgot their woes.

Canada spent most of the day staring off into space. He seemed to be continually focusing on all the problems and decisions at hand, but seeing those around him return to normal was lifting his spirits. Occasionally he could hear Francis and Gilbert singing down the hall. Every time he heard one of them bellow a song note that was completely off key a smile would come to his face. Then Canada would hear Britain banging on the locked door of the guest room the two drunken fools were in, and Britain would demand they shut up.

Matthew let a smile back onto his face as some strange nonsense took place in the movie he was currently watching with his brother. He looked across the couch and to his brother.

"Alfred. You sure do have a lot of weird movies." He said as he reached out taking a hand full of popcorn from the giant bowl Alfred was holding. It seemed Alfred's answer to this day had been to marathon some of his Hollywood movies and to eat junk food. This time Canada happily sat with his brother and watched the films even if he thought the plots were pretty ridiculous and full of holes. It was relaxing to just sit and watch a movie with family. They really couldn't do much more until Ludwig came anyway. With Prussia drunk out of his mind the important conversation with his boyfriend would have to wait.

"Yeah well, nothing's weirder than Francis's movies. Actually, Arthur's are pretty terrible too, now that I think of it. Man. How did we survive growing up?" Alfred was sporting a nice bruise just under his eye where he'd been punched in the face. But Gilbert had an even bigger bruise…a black eye.

But after things had settled down, Alfred really enjoyed spending time with his brother. Things seemed a lot more normal even after just a few hours…but…Alfred hadn't forgotten the day's events. And he knew Matthew hadn't either. He knew he was still worried. And well…America finally seemed to be able to worry about something now too.

"I know mom doesn't want me to go…but…I'm going with you back to your house, little bro," he said. He didn't move his eyes from off the screen as the action movie before them played and he didn't look Matt's way. But all the same, Canada would be able to see how dead set Alfred was on keeping his word. And as carefree and as normal as he'd been acting the past few hours, in that moment, sitting in the dark with the glow of the TV shining across his eyes, Matthew could see how truly worried Alfred was. He was just hiding it. The way he always did when he was really upset about something. He'd never been the type to wear his emotions out on his sleeve.

Before Canada could answer, a loud, forceful knock came to the front door. The twins looked to it, and Alfred moved to get up.

"That must be Germany. He's right on time. Punctual dude." Rising to his feet and handing his twin the popcorn bowl, America then turned and shouted down the hall. "YO! ARTY! GERMANY'S HERE!" Poor Canada had to cover his ears.

Stepping up to his front door, America pulled it open. And there, standing in the light of his front porch, the night beyond him, was the European nation. Wearing his usual uniform, and his face as chiseled and as pale as usual, he gave a brisk, curt nod America's way.

"Zank you for havink me. Sorry for zee trouble Gilbert 'as cauzed. I vill spend only vone night, no more, zen ve shall be on our vay." He was straight to the point, as always, and clearly he wasn't planning on making it any longer of a trip than need be. In fact, he really didn't look like he wanted to be there at all.

"Germany, dude, it's fine. We've got a lot to talk about, come on in." Leaving the door open, Alfred stepped back inside.

Ludwig blinked in confusion. It wasn't the response he'd been expecting. America hadn't made any jokes, or slapped him on the back, or talked about possibly partying now that they had another country at his house. Actually, Ludwig couldn't remember if there were ever more than three countries at his house without there being a party.

_He seemz a little more docile zen usual…_ he thought. He certainly hadn't been as abrasive as he usually was at the world meetings. Concern started to creep its way into the edges of Germany's mind. _Vhat exactly 'as happened 'ere? _He thought.

Stepping inside, his luggage wheeling behind him, he moved into the living room, shutting the door at his back. And once inside, he found the room dark. Canada and America had clearly been watching a movie together with the lights off, but Ludwig didn't see Britain, France or Gilbert anywhere.

His gut told him something big had gone down. Britain certainly had been upset enough on the phone. And he could think of very little that would make America so…tolerable.

"Vhere is Britannien? I zink we should all talk." But again, before answers could be given, Germany's suitcase began to wiggle. All three countries in the room stared at it, surprised. But it wasn't done there. It then began to bounce.

"Vhat zee hell?"

"Dude! Your luggage is possessed!"

"Oi vey! Don't be ridiculous!" But it seemed to thrash more and more wildly, and of course, Germany just came from an airport and was visiting another countries house so he had no gun on him. If he had, he would have fixated it on the estranged luggage. But then, the suitcase fell over onto its side into the floor and RIIIIP! A small, blue clad country, tumbled out and onto America's living room floor.

"TAA DAAAA!" Italy cried. Germany's eye twitched as Alfred started to clap, clearly amused.

"Wow! I didn't think a grown dude could fit in that tiny suitcase!"

"Well, at first I ah, could-a-not-a! But then! Once I realized I could just-a remove-a all of Germania's things, well! Then, then I coulda fit! Ve!" Germany's other eye twitched. A slow snarl curled over his lips as complete disbelief overtook him.

"Ach du lieber! I don't believe zis! I told you to stay _at home_!"

"Aww! But I justa couldn't! I'd miss you waaaaay too mucha! Ve! I wanted to-a-go on vacationing too!"

"I already told you dis is not a vacation!"

"Ve? But we're in America! Any traveling to America just-a-has-ta be a vacation!" Alfred started to laugh out loud.

"He's gotchya there bro! Everything in America is a party!" Germany was not amused. In fact, if someone watched closely, they could see the veins in his forehead come to life, rising under arteriole pressure. He growled in the back of his throat.

"Can't anybody take anyzink seriouzly? I was called ount of my country for an emergenzy! I was told zis was an emergenzy! If I vas tricked here to attend some stupid party zen I'm going to blow a blood vezzel!"

Alfred raised his hands in his classic "chill out" motion, but he was still chuckling under his breath. He sure hoped that all of this slap stick between Germany and Italy was at least cheering Matthew up a little bit and helping him forget his problems.

"Chill out man! I'll go get Britain for you so he can explain stuff properly. I'm not very good at getting important details right in stories." Seeing as he'd called Britain already and he still hadn't come to them, Alfred turned back to the hallway and screamed again.

"YO! ARTY! I SAID GERMANY'S HERE!"

"Ohh! Oh ohhh! Me too!" Italy said as he leapt up from his spot on the floor, raising his hand as if for attendance in school. Alfred smiled, then faced the hallway again.

"AND ITALY TOO!"

"Shtop it! Shtop shouting! You're goink to make my earz bleed!"

Britain finally came back up the hallway. He had long since changed into a graphic T-shirt with Britain's flag all over it and blue jeans. The casual attire was giving him comfort. In truth it was something America had bought for him some time ago. Arthur had left the clothes at Alfred's house a long time ago with the intention of never seeing them again, but when Britain had needed to change out of his blood soaked clothes he couldn't return to the second floor for his luggage. Alfred had then reminded Arthur that he had these clothes downstairs, and Arthur had agreed to finally wear the Americanized things. The clothes did have a soothing effect and helped remind him America was still alive. With a heavy sigh Britain stepped into the room and looked at Germany and Italy. Then he gave them a brisk nod as a greeting.

"Ah. Good. Now I'm sure we can get those two out. They have blocked the damn door with your liquor cabinet Alfred. They are holed up in that room singing and carrying on. I was unable to find a way in, but I am quite sure Prussia will come out with you here Germany. He has been asking about you all day. He is very inebriated at the moment though. I think France and Prussia have ingested most of your liquor cabinet, Alfred. You should probably send France a bill for that. That would teach him a lesson."

Then Arthur turned his attention fully to the two new countries.

"There is so much to discuss that I was trying to think of where to begin all day. Let's go to the kitchen. Canada finally just got his wits back, and I do not want to drag this all out in his ear shot again. So come with me, please." Britain turned and started to walk with the two new countries towards the kitchen.

Matthew watched from the couch. He couldn't disagree with Britain's assessment, but he did add, "I'm ok now Arthur. It was just so much to handle." He sent a sorrowful look towards Italy, "Try not to freak them out."

A few moments later Britain sat with Germany and Italy on the far side of the kitchen. He let them get settled; or rather he let Italy get settled. Then he started recounting the entire day. He elaborated on Canada and Prussia's love life and how they had seemingly been seeing each other for the past year. With that information Germany was finally able to piece together where his older brother had been disappearing to over the last year.

Britain told them the two countries had decided to officially start seeing each other that morning and had received America's hesitant approval but not his own. Then the story got interesting. Britain then told them about the future America. How he'd appeared on the second floor of the home and what future America had said about Prussia taking over Canada and World War Three. He also told them his future son had tried to assassinate Prussia. He left out no detail.

He showed them his bloodied book of black magic, but still seeing the disbelief on their faces he informed them that Prussia could vouch that future America had tried to kill him, and that this unfathomable tale was true. He told Germany and Italy that once his future son had died America had shot at Prussia in his traumatized state, and that they'd kept Prussia locked up for most of the day for his own safety. Seeing they were still in disbelief Britain told them to go look around upstairs. He told them the exact location of his time traveling son's body, but he informed them he would not go back upstairs with them. He then released the pair to go upstairs and see for themselves.

Well, Germany had seen and heard quite enough. At first he'd wanted to believe that it was just another radical story made up by a country who claimed to see unicorns and fairies. But as soon as he witnessed the body; that had been quite proof enough. It certainly looked like America. And worse still…was that the body smelt like war.

Germany had been in plenty of wars and he was certainly no stranger to the hardships that came with them. Out of all the countries of the world…Germany…perhaps had suffered the most out of everyone. Although Germany had been the instigator on many occasions, he'd also paid very steep penalties for every single war he'd taken part in. And when it came to World War Two…well…no one could argue the aftermath of all of that. Finally being forced to accept Britain's tale, he came back downstairs. Luckily for Germany, America and Canada were currently entertaining Italy, so he'd had a spare moment to go look at the body without traumatizing him, and now he'd take what time he had left to talk to Prussia about all this.

When Germany came back downstairs Prussia had once again come out into the living room looking for his brother. He was staggering in his drunken stupor, and he was too drunk to speak straight and was leaning against the wall of the hallway in order to stay upright. He had one hand on the wall and another was holding an almost empty bottle of scotch that America had received from Scotland for his birthday.

Prussia had been given an ice pack for the black eye he had received earlier in the day. In their drunken state it seemed France and Prussia had tried to affix the ice pack to Prussia's head using tape and toilet paper. There was a large amount of toilet paper being used as bandage wrappings. It covered the albino's head in a very unorganized and ineffective way. He looked more like a defective mummy than anything. The ice pack wasn't even on his eye, just loosely caught up in the wrappings and tape. Another testament to how badly he was hammered. When he saw his brother coming down the stairs he waved the scotch bottle at Germany.

"Wez! Wez! Ze awezome me! Havingz fierce drinkinz contezt ! Franziz! C-come j-join!" He waved his half empty bottle around in the air.

As Germany turned the corner of the downstairs hall, he found Prussia drunk. For a moment, he could only stare. He may have been a huge fan of beer, but this was hardly the place or time to be drinking.

"Vhy is it dat I'm always the only sane von?" Feeling his usual anger and frustration boil to life, he wasted no time in marching over to his older brother. Germany then dedicated himself to setting the albino straight. Reaching out, he grabbed a hold of the icepack and ripped it off of his face, harshly.

"You look like an imbecile! It'z not even cold anymore!" He tossed the ice pack roughly to the ground, then didn't hesitate to slap his brother roughly across the cheek, knowing full-well that he wouldn't even feel it if he was a drunk as he appeared.

"Dis is no time to be drinkink! Look at zee trouble you've cauzed! Now you tell me unt you tell me straight out! Do you now or have you ever had planz to try unt conquer Canada?" Obviously, Germany was _not_ happy. If Prussia had seriously considered such a thing, he wasn't even entirely sure what he would do. A move like that was near suicidal for their country. Ludwig knew perfectly well that they didn't have the man power or the resources to take on the entirety of North America by themselves. Besides…he had no desire too. After all the horror that the German people had suffered, over and over again for hundreds of years, all Germany wanted was peace. He just wanted the people of his country to feel happy and safe. That was all he had ever wanted for them. And it was why both world wars had started in the first place.

He had absolutely no desire for a third. There was no reason for one. And if Prussia did something as insane as attack Canada…well…as much as Ludwig loved him, he knew he'd have to cut ties with him. There was no way he'd be associated with a sinking ship like that. And he'd do anything to protect Germany…even…if it meant abandoning his crazy brother to some conquest for world domination.

"Explain yourself Gilbert! Sofort!"

Prussia stared at his brother with his one normal eye. At first he looked like he was going to answer Germany with some profound message, but then he raised the scotch bottle to his lips. He hadn't wanted to waste good alcohol. Then with pink cheeks he stared at his younger brother. He'd obviously been dealing with these events all day as well, and Germany could tell that his older brother had been greatly disturbed by what future America had said.

Prussia couldn't say what happened in the future, who could? Right now he really did love Matthew. He enjoyed the quiet nations company, and he didn't want to lose it. Right now he in no way had ever wanted to conquer or kill his boyfriend.

"Iz onlyz wanz to conquerz Birdzie in bed. Nein. Nein hurtz him, bruder." France had come from the back room and up behind Prussia. He was thoroughly blitzed as well, and his face was slightly flushed. He let out one of his trademark laughs.

"Hon. Hon. Hon. Mon petit Matthieu is on his way to growing up! Gilbert wanz mon petit Matthieu. It is da love, No? Hon. Hon. Hon." He looked out across the room at his son.

"Matzu!" Prussia turned his red eyes towards his boyfriend, "Iz our first fight! Franziz said make up zex is awezome!" Across the room Canada's breath caught in his throat and then he started to choke. Canada's face quickly turned bright red as his boyfriend spoke of such things in front of the group.

Britain's eyes grew stark white from his shock. Immediately he was glaring at France once more.

"For the love of God, FROG! Stop butting into things!"

Alfred had been in the middle of taking a sip of his coffee when such lewd things were uttered about his brother's sex life. He immediately spit it out across the room, the brown liquid hitting poor Britain square in the face.

"Dude, honestly? You wanna say that type of stuff right in front of his big bro? Are ya serious? Look, I'm _trying_ here, ok? But with this whole future America appearing with a doomsday prophecy it's kinda _hard_ to trust you as it is! You're lucky I didn't kill you as soon as I found out! And now you're just gunna…be…talking shit…like? Ya know? Dude! I already punched you in the face! Do you _want_ another knuckle sandwich?"

Ludwig sighed. He understood what America was saying, even if he was less than eloquent in his delivery.

"I can't believe I'm sayink this, but Amerika is right. You must be some sort of schwachkopf to say such thingz in front of Canada's family considerink all they've been through today. But of course…you're drunk…"

Prussia went to raise the bottle of scotch to his lips once more. Germany's eyes flashed dangerously. Without warning, he lashed out, grabbing it out of his hands.

"You need a cold showerz! Ve can't leave until zee mornink, so for now you get yourself cleaned up and head straight to zee guest room! I'll deal vith you vhen we get back home!"

"Yeah Germany dude, you tell em!"

"And you shut zee hell up! I have enough to deal vith vithout your idiocy!" America frowned.

"Man…you know you're in _my_ house right now…right? And _your_ stupid-ass brother caused all this?" Germany sighed heavily, running a hand through his blonde locks.

"Ja. Of course." Italy, seeing things were getting tense, and never liking when things were tense, immediately ran over to Germany's side to 'come to his rescue.'

"Oh! Ve! You simply a-must-a forgive him, ve? He'd been under so a-much-a stress! He just needs ah, quick shoulder rub, yah?" Italy reached out as if he were indeed going to give Germany a shoulder rub, but that wasn't before Ludwig's usual vein in his forehead popped to life again.

"I svear to God if you touch me I'll _break your fingerz_!"

"Awww…such a stressful day for Germania, ve. Britain offered me some wonderful-a tea! Would you like some?"

"Nein…nein…that's fine. Ve should…just…retire to zee guest room as vell."

"Ok! It'll be like a slumber party!"

"No! Just sleepink! Ve vill be sleepink and that is all!"

"Oohh…" Italy frowned in disappointment. All the same, his attitude never seemed deflated for more than a second. "I'll go get your things! Oh…wait…there aren't any…because I unpacked-a your suitcase…so I could fit inside…"

"Oi vey…"

"Can I pick which-a bed-a I get to sleep in?"

"Ja ja! Just shut up and come along!"

"Ok!" Eager to get away from the northern countries and deal with Prussia once he was sober in the morning, Germany took his leave and turned down the hall. Once all three countries had left, it was down to Britain, America, Canada, and a drunken France. Alfred sighed. Even he looked stressed out.

"Matt, dude…we're sharing a room tonight. I'm gunna have to make sure none of these weirdo's try anything with you…"


	7. A Nightmare and Some Booze!

**Chapter 7**

A nightmare and some booze!

Canada watched Germany drag Prussia and Italy away. He kept his indigo eyes on the trio, and watched his boyfriend until the door slammed. He let out a heavy sigh when he could no longer see Prussia. His heart skipped in his chest as his boyfriend vanished. He heard what America had said to him but didn't say anything back. It was not like they hadn't shared a room before. They were twins after all. He had no problem with it. After seeing future America and after holding his brother while he died, well he wanted his brother to be close too, so he nodded numbly.

Across the room France broke away from Britain and barreled towards his curly haired son. He grabbed Matthew by his shoulders. Matthew let out a weak "eh!" as he was spun around and came face to face with his papa. France kissed his son on either cheek and then smiled broadly. The stress of the day was easier to deal with when his son was in sight.

"Matthieu, would you like to come drink some wine with papa?" France looked at his son's face, and Matthew knew that the day had its effects on his papa. Matthew smiled at his papa in a reassuring way, but he quickly declined the offer.

"No Papa. I'm ready to go to bed. You shouldn't drink much more either. You smell awful." Canada raised his hand and waved the air away from his nose trying to thin out the alcoholic smell that was coming from France.

"Goodnight Matthieu and Amérique. Angleterre, let us drink." France gave Canada one more hug. Then he released his son and instead went over and grabbed a very startled Britain. France was once again all smiles as he dragged Britain back down the hallway towards America's liquor cabinet. Britain was shouting the entire way.

"Unhand me, Frog!" was the last thing America and Canada heard before the door slammed shut and their two fathers vanished behind a closed door.

Canada had to silently hope that his two fathers would be ok. He knew Britain wasn't the best with alcohol, and France was not one to limit anyone's alcoholic intake. Knowing there was very little he could do about it, Canada turned to face his brother. He held his hands out in front of him motioning Alfred to go ahead towards whichever guest room he wanted.

"Lead the way, Al." Of course he'd have to borrow some of his brother's pajamas like he had earlier borrowed some of his brother's clothes. All his things were on the second floor, and he wasn't going up there to get them.

Alfred took Matthew to one of the downstairs guest rooms that contained two beds, one against opposite walls. Fetching extra pillows and blankets, he set everything up. Changing into his pajamas which were really just boxers and a white tee-shirt, he then offered Canada some pajamas which of course, were matching and had American flags and fireworks all over them. Alfred had a good laugh about it, then leapt into his bed in order to settle down for the evening.

Despite the day's crazy-ass events, he fell right to sleep within only a few moments. Perhaps it could have been blamed on his usual carefree attitude, or maybe the fact that he had always fallen asleep quickly before, so perhaps it had been habit, but whatever the case, it didn't last long. Even America's old habits weren't enough to erase such a hellish day.

His nightmares started up right away. Horrible dreams about Canada being bombed, or Prussia taking him away from him. Dreams about running and running and running, and never finding his missing brother. Visions of America in ruins, his people dying and suffering.

In his bed he tossed and turned, sweat covering his pale skin. He'd always been a good sleeper, and in fact, Canada would have been used to seeing him giggle in his sleep, or perhaps move his mouth up and down as if eating. On rare occasion, he'd mumble something idiotic about parties, or burgers. He hardly ever suffered from nightmares. But this night, his face was twisted, small groans of misery escaping him as he was plagued by a future world that he perhaps, could not prevent from becoming real.

On the other hand Canada had been unable to fall asleep. He had lain in bed staring at the ceiling for some time. He had tried to make himself sleepy by counting the ceiling tiles in the room. When that plan had failed he went to the edge of the bed, leaned over, and lifted up the bed skirt. Similar to their childhood Canada immediately found a treasure trove of junk beneath America's bed. He climbed down onto the floor in order to explore the vast expanse. Eventually, he found some old book his brother had crammed under the bed some time ago by the looks of it.

Dusting off the book he sat it at his side and began to explore the caverns of junk once more. He soon found a flashlight. Having found something he could quietly do, he climbed back onto the bed and sat reading like he had ages ago when he'd been a child. He pulled the blanket over his head to keep the flashlight dim and sat reading for a few chapters. He didn't know anything was wrong with his brother until Alfred's moaning and groaning became loud enough for him to hear. Quickly pulling the sheet down Canada looked up from the vampire book.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting he saw is brother tossing and turning in bed. Canada wasted no time and quickly hopped up out of bed and jogged to his brother's side. He sat down on the bed next to America and reached out putting his hands on both of America's shoulders and gave America a firm shake to rouse him from sleep. Canada softly spoke to his brother in order to rouse him from his nightmare.

"Alfred. Alfred, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

Alfred let out a gasp of dread once startled awake. Thrashing, he sat up abruptly, hands on either side of his sheets. Breathing heavily, his blue eyes were huge as they rested on the image of his brother. Still coated in sweat, it took him a second to recognize where he was. Blinking, he took in the sight of Matthew all over again. Then slowly, he started to relax. His breathing slowed. Lifting a hand, he wiped the sweat off of his face. Heart still pounding he tried to settle down.

For a second, he thought about playing it all off and making up some crazed story about his nightmare being something totally unrelated to the past day's events. _I'll tell him…I dreamt all the fast food joints went out of business all at once! _He thought. But when he lifted his head to face his brother, and tell him the lie, it died in his throat.

Simply seeing his face was almost too much to bear. The idea of losing him was so horrifyingly real, that it made him want to cry. And America _never_ cried.

For a long, long moment, Alfred didn't move. He was torn between throwing up his usual tough front and lying through his teeth and then cracking a joke to play it all off as nothing…or…for once…letting his real emotions show.

Canada had pulled his hands back off of America's shoulders as he sat waiting for America to come to his senses, but it wasn't happening fast enough. Alfred was looking at him with _that look_. It didn't take a huge ability to 'read the atmosphere' to tell that his brother was still very upset from whatever he had been dreaming. With the hellish day they had, Matthew could easily guess what Alfred's nightmare had been about.

He did not want to pry Alfred on the subject of his nightmare. His twin would most likely joke it off if he tried to ask about it anyway. He knew all of his brother's habits, and America was one to keep his emotions hidden especially any that could be thought of as a weakness. As Canada stared at his brother's tumultuous face he decided to do what he'd always done when his twin was upset. He reached out grabbing onto Alfred's shoulders and pulled him into a comforting hug. Gently he patted his brother on the back in a reassuring way,

"Hey Al, you're ok. I'm right here," the Canadian said in his gentle voice, "I'll always be here." He held his brother close and let America's forehead rest on his shoulder.

And then, finally, at that moment, Alfred felt all of the horror and stress from the day bubble up inside of him. In the privacy of the guest bedroom, and with no one else around to see but his brother…he felt the heat rise up behind his blue eyes.

Feeling Matthew so close, and having that physical barrier broken was all it had taken. Immediately, Alfred returned the hug, throwing his arms around his little brother in a crushing embrace. Keeping his chin on his twins' shoulder, he couldn't fight the few tears that managed to escape.

But he was still too proud to say anything. He wasn't like future America, who'd been broken by war and grief. He couldn't just…start blubbering about how he loved Matt and how he was afraid of the idea of him being hurt or lost or killed. No…he couldn't say any of that. He was the big brother. He had to be the strong one. He knew he'd protect Matthew. And that meant being tough! Like he always was.

_I've always had to be strong, but now it's so much more important,_ he thought. Yes. He had to be strong to protect Canada.

Hoping his face had been hidden enough, so that Matt hadn't seen his tears, Alfred waited until his face dried, then he released his little brother. When he pulled back and away from him, he plastered one of his usual goofy grins back onto his face.

"Well! After a nightmare like that, I think I'll go lock Prussia in his room! I'll be right back, bro!" And with that, he went to rise out of bed.

Canada reached out grabbing America's wrist, halting him before he could leave. This time he was the one that kept his eyes away. He faced the far wall of the room not turning to look at his brother.

"About that…." He started with a heavy sigh. "I know you don't like Prussia, Alfred. Even before all of this stuff happened today, not many people liked Gilbert. But I never feel invisible when I'm with him. That's why I like having him around." Canada let his brother's wrist go and continued to stare at the wall.

Alfred stopped. He looked to his brother. His smile faded away. He knew then…that he had to be real for once. Matthew needed him to be real. He didn't need a joke, or an outrageous story about that time at Cape Cod. Matthew…needed his brother. He needed to talk.

Alfred sighed, then sat down on the bed next to his twin. Embarrassed, because he never was very good at heart-to-hearts, he glanced away.

"I'm sorry…I'm not very good at this sort of thing…" he started. "But you know, Matt…you…you're not invisible. Ok? I mean…yeah…sometimes you get pushed aside, or ignored, because you're so quiet and you keep to yourself, but uh…you know…that doesn't mean I forget about you. You…you're really important to me, ok bro?" Alfred lifted his head then, knowing he needed to really look at his brother.

"So, dude…look. I can tell you really like Gilbert. And I may not really get it…but…that's because I've never had feelings like that for someone." Then he snickered. "I'm not sure I'm even capable of having feelings like that! And I doubt my love-hate relationship with Mexico counts…" He had to chuckle again, but knowing he couldn't laugh his way out of this one, he let it die and got back to business.

"I get that you need someone other than me and Arthur and…Francis," he wrinkled his nose as he said the last name. "I get that I do. And…if…if it absolutely _has_ to be Gilbert…then…I guess I have no choice but to support you. You already know how I feel about him, especially after all of this, but you gotta do what you gotta do, right?"

Alfred reached out, clapping his twin on the shoulder.

"I'm gunna keep my promise to you. I'll protect you. Ok? So…you do what you want with Gilbert and let me and Arthur take care of everything else, ok? You should focus on yourself for once. And I guess we'll switch roles for a bit, and I'll worry about you instead of you worrying about me." He offered another smile, but it wasn't his usual jokester or prankster smile. This one was warm and sincere, even if it did still have a little bit of…well…Alfred smugness in it.

Canada turned back to face his brother.

"Al, I always worry about you." He smirked at his brother. "If it makes you feel better to lock Gilbert in go ahead. I think Germany can handle him though. You don't need to worry."

The moment was interrupted as the door to the room violently burst open. Canada's eyes widened as he turned to look and found a very drunken Brit standing in the lighted doorway. Arthur held onto the doorframe with one hand and held an empty bottle in the other. He had a tie tied around his forehead like a bandana. God only knew where it had come from. The T-shirt he'd been wearing was gone, and he was now wearing one of France's purple flowing capes instead. He staggered into the room pointing at the two boys.

"Y-yoou." His finger wavered between the two twins. He didn't seem able to discern between the two of them, "Y-you! I ra-raised you! I-I…" His blood shot emerald eyes started to fill with tears as he made it half way across the room.

"Y-you wanker, You-!" As Britain stumbled across the room he tripped on one of America's sneakers which was lying in the middle of the floor and went crashing to the ground.

"Great. Papa did this," Canada mumbled. As if a speak-of-the-devil mentality applied the drunken, naked French man soon followed into the room. France stumbled towards the two twins arms outstretched like he wanted to hug them. Canada barely had time to cry out, "Watch out for Dad!" When France tripped over Britain and also went falling to the floor.

Alfred stared, eyes wide with shock at the state of both of them.

"Why is Francis naked?" But then, of course, he remembered just how numerous those naked accounts actually were when he was a child growing up. Looking to Canada he cried out,

"This is why I try to disassociate myself with France! America wants nothing to do with this!"

Matthew stared at his twin with pity. He had been dealing with France all of his life, so he was more than a little used to this type of display. Canada jumped up off of the bed. Quickly running to his downed papa, Canada let his twin off of the hook by dealing with France. Britain was squirming and clawing at the floor trying to get away from his brother who was trying to hug him. Canada could tell that even in his drunken state poor Britain was generally freaking out. Canada had to admit that happened a lot when Britain and France were together.

"Ge' off me, Frog! Off! Off!" Britain beat his fist against the floor in protest as France wrapped his arms around his neck.

"Hon! Hon! Hon! No need to be shy Angleterre!" France arms wrapped all the tighter around Britain's neck, "You just need to release your tension!"

"Papa! Off!" Canada cried as he started to drag France off of Britain. It took some finagling, but, eventually, France released Britain. Canada was able to drag France towards the spare bed as Britain crawled his way towards America. Once within reach Britain reached out clutching his son's legs.

"Yo-you! Fool! Go-got yours'lf dead! Y-you always were troublemaker! B-but I! Even if you le-left the king-kin-g! O-or wh-when y-you were t-tiny and wet the bed 'very blasted ni-night! Even wh-when you thre-thre-threw my tea in harbor! Or-or whe-when u st-stole my pi-pirate stuff! O-or act'd s-so-so stu-stupid! Y-you c-can't die! Y-you can-can't!" The half naked Brit clutched onto America's legs with iron clad strength. Seemingly afraid his son would vanish if he let him go.

"Uhh…" America really had no idea what to say to Britain in his drunken state. On one hand, he supposed he should be happy that he was upset at the idea of him dying. _That must've been hard for him today…_ he thought. But on the other hand, he was being rather insulting at the same time. Not to mention…incredibly embarrassing. America's cheeks flushed at the mention of his 'bed wetting' stage growing up.

"Shhh! Shut up, dude! We have guests in the room down the hall!" It was one thing for Britain to say it, but God; he'd never live it down if one of the other countries found out about that. Britain proceeded to crush his legs with a rather death-like grip, cutting off his circulation below the knees.

"Dude! You're so piss-ass drunk! Between you, France, and Prussia, it'll be a miracle if I have _any_ alcohol left for myself tomorrow! I hope you didn't drink my good scotch!" Reaching out, he struggled to pry Britain's arms off of himself.

"Man! You better get off of me! I get you had a rough day, but we all did! And I don't know about you, dude, but I kinda wanna get some fucking sleep! And it's super embarrassing to have you acting like this! France is one thing…he's always a naked ass, but _you?_" Gripping Britain's arms, he struggled to pry them apart.

Britain only buried his face further into America's legs. His ramblings continued.

"O-or th-the first time I c-cau-caught y-you drin-drinking! R-rem-remember?" Britain said between sobs, "C-Ca-Canada to-told on y-y-you an-and y-you were thr-throwing up e-every-everywhere! Y-Yo-you were a-al-always s-so-so thick headed!"

Since America was trying to get him off, Britain took advantage of the positioning and suddenly lunged out wrapping his arms around America's neck. He continued to squeeze Alfred mercilessly.

"Y-you w-wer-were always a p-poo-poor dresser too. You have n-no fashion sense! Y-You can't even d-dress right fo-for any occasion! You al-always look like some n-ne-Neanderthal! Y-you can-can't cook! You are so-so unruly too! I- It's Fr-France's fault! I-I know it! He wa-was such a b-bad inf-influence! I-I'm sure it w-was hi-his fault!"

Canada couldn't help it. He snickered from where he was seated next to his papa on the spare be. At lease France, even if naked, had nodded off into sleep rather quickly once Canada had managed to drag him up and onto the spare bed. It was probably because France had been drinking all day.

However Britain was acting as if he were glued to America. Being as Britain was still around clinging to America's neck he cried into Alfred's shirt, "E-Even s-so y-you, git. Y-you cannot die b-be-before me! Neither o-of you! I wo-won't have it!"

America's face only grew redder still at everything Britain was saying and the closeness of him. He was practically choking him and had pretty much crawled up into his lap with him.

"D-D-DUDE!" America struggled to try to pry him off a second time. "I can't fucking breathe man!" Britain was stronger than he appeared! Alfred was having a hell of a time handling him. "And I _like_ the way American's dress! We're super stylish yo! Super stylish! Have you seen our fashion shows? God! Your breath reeks!" America couldn't deny the rest of what he'd said though. He certainly couldn't cook, hence all the fast food joints. And he certainly _was_ unruly and thick-headed, two things he was proud of.

But America was starting to get the sense that Britain had started drinking to forget this horrid day, and perhaps more appropriately, forget that he'd held his son in his arms and had watched him die. Alfred would have felt a lot more for the older country if he wasn't being so physical.

"Arthur! Dude! If ya don't get off me, _I'm_ going to need a drink! You think this day was any easier on me, man? Dude, I watched myself _die_! Do you have any idea how messed up that is? I'm gunna be having nightmares for weeks! So just…just get off of me!"

Hearing Matthew chuckle, Alfred looked over to him shooting him a dirty glare.

"Stop laughing and help me get this old fart off of me!"

Seeing his brother's plight and hearing him ask for help only made Canada laugh harder. He'd been trying to hold it in, but he eventually couldn't control himself anymore. He put his hand on his stomach and laughed outright at his brother's plight. It took a moment to collect himself, and when he did Canada reached out and patted his unconscious papa on the head.

"I got mine. He's all yours."

Canada let it last for a few more moments. It really was a Kodak moment, but, eventually, he got up and came to his brother's aide. He was in the process of bending over to grab onto Arthur when Britain lifted one arm from Alfred and threw it around Matthew's neck ensnaring him as well.

"Eh!" Matthew cried as Britain pulled him in close nearly crushing his windpipe. Matthew batted at the arm that was currently choking him. Meanwhile Britain started to rave once more.

"A-and you! Y-you n-never we-wet the b-bed, bu-but you were so shy! I was a-afraid every-everyone would take a-ad-advantage of-of you and now you're shacking up with tha-that Albino! F-France's fau-fault aga-again! I-I may b-be a bad father, an-and I know I-I forgot yo-your birthday m-more than o-once an-and we lef-left you at the theatre that time an-and we-we never really see you at world me-meetings, but I wo-would no-notice i-if you w-went mis-missing like that! I swear! Fro-Frog swears too! W-We all promise Mat-Matthew! I-I-I'm so sorry…."

The hand around Matthew's neck loosened lightly but Britain didn't let go. Britain simply put his hand on the back of both twins head and brought them close. The stoic Brit seemed to be coming unhinged, like always, in the presence of alcohol.

"I wouldn't screw it up so bad. I wouldn't let it happen."

Matthew had just done this with his brother, so he knew how to help his father. He reached out hugging Arthur as he had done minutes ago for Alfred.

"No one's messed anything up. I'm ok. Other than really freaked out we're both ok Arthur. Don't worry."

Britain let out a huge sniffle and slowly let himself sink to the floor, but he didn't let go of either brother. He kept a firm hand on America's shirt and Canada's PJ's. Being drunk he seemed content to go back to his rambling state.

"You were both so cute in your little bloomers. I rem-remember our first y-year with Matthew in the house. Alfred. I-I..."

Just like that the drunken Brit went from serious-sad to a rambling drunk. Canada was a bit at a loss. Alfred had been the one to deal with a drunken Arthur on more than one occasion. Be it any other night but tonight it would have been easier to handle. Alfred probably would have pulled twenty different pranks on Britain, but it was not a night for pranks. Arthur had obviously gotten so hammered to erase the pain of the day. So with a sigh Canada turned to his twin.

"Do we dunk him cold water? He'll wake the others if he starts up again."

As Alfred and Matthew were both dragged to the floor with their drunken father, America couldn't help but to wonder what he should do.

"I dunno bro…normally I just tease him until morning. But he's usually _fun_ when he's wasted. Now he's all…weepy and stuff. I'm really uncomfortable! I'm not used to dealing with all this raw emotion!"

It was at that moment that Germany burst into their room, flinging the door wide open until it crashed into the opposite wall. Still completely dressed in his uniform since he had nothing to change into, thanks to Italy's mishap with his suitcase, he looked just as formidable as ever. And his scowl and his throbbing vein in his forehead were as chiseled as always.

"Vill you all just shut zee hell up?! I svear dis house is full of crazy people! It'z two o'clock in zee mornink! Don't you people ever sleep? Don't you 'ave any consideration for your house guests? Amerika your place iz insane! You party even after der's been a catastrophe of epos proportionz! Now I vill ask nicely unt only once! Because if you wake up Italy one more time, I'll be forced to kill myself in order to get any rest around 'ere!"

And then just like that, he slammed the door shut and the group could hear him stomping back down the hall to his own bedroom. And with Britain, the drunk, shushed into silence for the moment due to the interruption, they could now hear the very fast, very loud, very racing Italian language that was piercing through the guest room down the hall. Italy was talking so quickly and his accent was so thick and he was adding so many extra syllables to his English that they couldn't even understand him. But it was however, very clear to as why Germany was so upset that he was woken up.

"Nein! Der vill be nein cuddlink! Go back to bed! You're a country, act like von!"

The northern countries room was silent for just a second, but then, America's face cracked into a grin and he burst out laughing.

"Hahaha haha ha haha! Poor Germany! His boyfriend might even be worse than yours Matt! Hahahaha! I'd go crazy dealing with that all day every day! Ha haha hahaha! No wonder he has a stick up his ass all the time!"

Eventually Matthew and Alfred were able to situate Arthur on the second guest bed with France. It left Canada without a bed, so he decided to crash with his brother. After all the hell of the previous day all four nations were able to doze off into wonderful bliss.


	8. A Mini-Half-a-World Meeting

**Chapter 8**

A Mini-Half-a-World Meeting

The next morning Prussia woke with a pounding hangover, a dry mouth, and a huge hole in his memory. He remembered the events that had occurred earlier in the day which seemed unfortunate. He knew nothing would ever take the horrid memories of that previous morning away. What he had forgotten was the time he had spent with France in the evening. He remembered drinking with his old friend, but he didn't remember his brother's arrival.

"Ack!" He let out a disgruntled sound as he raised his hands to his pounding temples, "Oh mein gott! Was zum Teufel ist passiert." (Oh my God! What the hell happened?)

Prussia opened his eyes to the light of the room which he immediately regretted.

_Oh my head._

He closed his eyes briefly then reopened them to look around once more. He had to get some bearing of where he was and who he was with. Taking a quick glance around the room he was surprised to see his brother and Italy on a nearby bed.

"West? What ze hell?" He looked out across the room. He stared at his brother for a moment before bringing his hands down to cover his eyes from the intrusive light streaming in through the window, "What ze hell happened?" He whispered as he tried to block out the natural light. Then Prussia's eyes squinted together even more as he thought about all of the horrible events of the previous day. _No_. He thought to himself. He wanted to refuse the memories of the future America that were still prevalent in his head. He wanted to deny what had happened more than anything. _That had to be a dream. _

"I hadz creepiest dream laz night, West." Prussia mumbled out. He whispered. His voice staying low because of the pounding headache he was experiencing.

Needless to say, Italy was in Germany's bed, as always. Germany had given up trying to put him his own bed long ago. The Italian always ended up crawling back in with him in the middle of the night anyway with one excuse or another about not being able to sleep otherwise. And Germany discovered early on in their relationship that if he just let him sleep with him, he'd shut up and dose off. And so, it was really the only way to get any sort of shut eye.

Hearing his brother's voice, Germany slowly started to wake up. Rubbing his face, he opened his blue eyes to the day and…found Italy already awake and staring at him, his nose inches from his own.

"GAH!"

"Buongiorno Germania!" (Good morning Germany!) Germany only sighed. It was too early to get all worked up already. That and his older brother was speaking to him. He'd rather just ignore Italy and address the issues at hand. They were rather serious after all. And so, sitting up, he casually shoved Feliciano aside and to the floor.

"Ouchie! Waaahh! Why's Germania so-a-mean first thing in-a-the morning?"

Completely ignoring poor Italy, Ludwig sat up on the edge of his bed in order to face his older brother…who really seemed only to act like a little brother. Sighing, he glanced to the side.

"Dat was no dream you had Gil…" he said. "Unt ve have some serious issues to address dis mornink with the North Amerikan countries before ve leave to go home." Sighing again, Germany lifted his head to the ceiling pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.

"But I suppose…der's not much ve can do to reassure dem of anythink. All I can offer dem is to keep an eye on you. Unt all _you_ can do is promise never to do such a heinous thing. Der's nothing more." But it seemed another country didn't think so. Italy quickly raised his hand. Still seated on the floor from where he was shoved, the palm lifted only to about Germany's waist.

"Ooo! Ooo! I know, I know!" Germany looked to him. And for just a split second, he had to admit that he was kind of adorable.

"Ja? Vhat is it Italy?"

"I know how we can-a-prevent the whole future doomsday thingy! We just-a-let-a Gilbert and Canada fall in love! Because, when people are-a in love, they don't blow each other up! Ve!"

Germany sighed again, but this time not because he was frustrated with the boot shaped country. This time he sighed because he couldn't help but to feel a little bit sad. It was such an innocent, naïve thing to say. It was one of the things that made Italy so special. He was full of art, and romance in ways that other countries just weren't. France liked to pretend he was the most romantic country in the world…but everyone knew he was just a pervert. Italy on the other hand had true, pure intentions when it came to things like love. It was one of the many (secrete) reasons Germany liked him. Not that he'd ever admit to any of that out loud. Ever. And so, instead of smacking Feliciano, or yelling at him as usual, he actually answered in a much softer voice than usual.

"Feliciano…I vish it vere that simple. But you just can't solve every problem vith love…" But this didn't seem to deter Italy at all. He only smiled more brightly.

"Ah! But Germania! You can!" Germany set his cool blue eyes on the cute little country. He couldn't help but to feel bad for him. He just didn't understand hardship in the same way Germany did. No country in the world had lost an entire tenth of their population due to concentration camps. And Germany knew full well that there were some things love just couldn't fix. The scars he carried around with him were a constant reminder of that.

"…" He hadn't been exactly sure what it was he was about to say, but he stopped himself when he looked at that innocent face. He knew he couldn't crush him. He didn't want to. Sometimes…it was important to see how the little country could hope and dream.

"Ok. I think ze three of us should just…go out and meet with zee others. Ve can all discuss dis together. Ve shall reassure dem dat dis future dey saw vill never come to pass." Choosing to ignore Italy's suggestion instead of cutting it down seemed to be the kindest resolution. He hoped Italy was too dumb to pick up on what he'd done. Then, again, sometimes it was hard to tell. Germany often suspected that Feliciano was much more intelligent than he let on.

Standing up and getting out of bed, Germany started toward the guest bathroom. He may not have had a change of clothes, but he could at least be clean when he presented himself to the other countries.

The Allied countries, of course, had the same idea as Germany. Alfred, after ending up in the same bed with Matthew, had fallen to sleep much more easily. Having his brother right next to him had been a huge comfort. He'd have known then, if Matthew had disappeared in the middle of the night. And of course, Canada hadn't, despite America's fears, and America had been able to get a few hours of quality sleep. As such when he woke up he roused his brother and then went to wake his two fathers so they could have a meeting with Germany, Italy, and Prussia.

France popped right out of bed as if nothing had happened. The North America twins assumed France was used to having large amounts of alcohol in his system. Perhaps he was immune to its after effects now. Unfortunately it took America, Canada, and France together to get poor Britain up and running. He had a massive hangover and had vomited several times before even being able to stand on his own.

Eventually, the four countries made it downstairs. America, not caring to dress for the occasion, was in his usual casual clothes. And since they'd all be talking over breakfast, he'd taken the opportunity to drive over to McDonalds and get food for everyone. Once he was back, an egg McMuffin was placed in front of each of the countries. And just to make sure there was variety, there was also a huge box of doughnuts in the middle of the table and plenty of coffee.

"Ok, dudes! This is my house so we're gunna run things my way!" And of course, he was seated at the head of the table as everyone else took seats around him. "The first thing I think everyone here wants to know is if Prussia is already in contact with Russia or not. Because this whole crazy thing seems to hinge on the fact that Russia is the bad guy. Arthur was right yesterday when he said Prussia couldn't bomb anyone as he is right now, because he's a weak little ghost nation. Which means Russia is really the bad guy and Prussia here is just a pawn. Am I right?"

"Do notz zpeak of ze awezome me like I am zome pathetic lozer, kid! I am ze awezome Prussia!" Prussia shouted from his end of the table and then immediately regretted it. He grabbed his head and sank into his chair a bit, "Oh…ow…"

He rubbed at his pounding head and cringed. This hangover was murder. Then he said the next part of his speech with much more subtle tones, "The only country I visit iz Canada. I do it for 'iz company 'nd pancakes 'nd now hiz vital regions. I have not talkz to Russia or his crazy azz. I have no planz to everz talk to the azz who hurt mine Birdie. If he comez near Matthew I willz kill 'em."

"Good." Whispered the huddling mass at the side of the table, "He did not speak to Russia. Will everyone please stop talking now?" Britain whispered again from underneath his blanket. His trembling hands were clutching his head as a massive headache radiated through his skull. A blanket loosely lay over his head and kept the light from reaching his eyes.

Having heard what Prussia had said Canada stood up from the kitchen table leaving his egg McMuffin behind. He walked around the table and stood beside Gilbert.

"We need to talk. Come on."

"Right now?" Gilbert clutched at his skull and stared longingly at his untouched coffee. Not to mention the meeting going on, although, he really had nothing else to say. He'd spoken the truth and made his peace. It was all he could do.

"Right now." Canada reiterated. Gilbert probably wouldn't have done it for anybody else. Germany could have testified to that, but Prussia stood up abandoning his coffee to go and talk to the other nation. Canada took Gilbert's wrist and pulled the unsteady man out of the kitchen. Canada had heard what he'd needed to hear from Gilbert. He'd had plenty of time to think since yesterday and now they needed to talk. So he left his family in the kitchen and went to one of the guest rooms in the back for privacy, closing the door behind him.

Back in the kitchen Britain reached out a shaking hand and grabbed his McDonald's coffee. France had a huge smile on his face at what his son had just done.

"It's like a world meeting, no?" France turned to Germany, a serious expression on his face for once, "I gave 'im zee alcohol last nig't so Gilbert would speak 'onestly wiz' me. I talked to 'im for a very long time. I do not believe 'e 'as done anything to betray mon petit, Matthieu. Yet, even if 'e is my friend I would not forgive 'im if 'e did such a 'einous zing to my sons. Still, I cannot try him for zings he has yet to do. All we can do is watch and wait. Z'en zere's Russia…."

Alfred's eyes twitched as he watched his brother grab Gilbert by the hand and lead him out of the dining room. But he didn't say anything or try to stop them. He'd meant everything he said during his heart-to-heart with his brother last night, and so…he was going to let him do whatever it was he needed to do, whether he liked it or not.

"Aw!" Came Italy's smitten voice. Several countries turned their heads to look at him as he swooned. "It's just-a-exactly as I said! Love!" The little country turned and looked to Germany, who still didn't seem all that convinced. Looking to the rest of the countries, Italy continued. "We have nothing at-a-all to worry about everyone! Can you really look at-a those two and say Gilbert would hurt Canada?"

America's eyes dropped to the side. When it was said out loud like that…it was a lot harder to believe than it was yesterday. He knew how his brother felt about Prussia through all the talking they'd done the day before…and after Prussia's little speech just then, it was hard to think that he also didn't feel the same way about Matt.

"All zee same," came Germany's calm, rational voice. "Ve now know that Russia is ze one behind all of dis. As such, it means he's goink to contact Gilbert sometime in ze near future. Von vay or another, in the future the two countries get together. Now dat ve know of all of dis, Gilbert can be prepared to turn down vhatever proposal Russia comes to him vith. Den, he can report back to us to let us know vhat exactly it vas Russia offered him."

"Dude, that makes me nervous," America immediately said. "Whatever Russia said to Prussia to begin with was enough to turn him on Matt! What's to say whatever deal he offers him won't turn him again? We should just…lock Prussia up for a few weeks surrounding my birthday. That's when all this shit starts going down, right?"

"Ve don't know vhat date Russia makes contact. I'm not goink to lock my bruder up for months on end just because you're nervous."

"Dude…don't piss me off right now…I'll do whatever it takes to protect Matt! And if that means locking up the albino, then let's fucking do it!"

"No!" Italy suddenly cried. "You-a-cannot separate them! They must be together! The stronger their bond, the more protection they'll-a-have-a!"

The whole time Italy spoke it seemed that France was stealthily sliding his chair down the table and closer to the smaller nation. Eventually he reached his goal. He reached out hugging Italy close. France played with Italy's hair in a way that would most likely piss off Germany. A slight, untrustworthy smile came to the Frenchman's face.

"Hon. Hon. Hon. Such a cute wittle zing zu are. I could just take you 'ome wiz me. Zu are right. Love is all you need."

Britain shot a glare from where he was currently resting his head on the table. He would have loved to get up and pound on France, but he was incapacitated at the moment. With a heavy sigh he spoke his mind.

"It is impossible to tell the flow of events that lead to World War Three. Having future America here has already changed a lot. In truth, Russia could contact Prussia tomorrow or the day after your birthday Alfred. We do not know. All we know is that Matthew went missing right after your birthday. That at least means Matthew was taken within a certain time frame. We can watch him during that time. Russia's huge. If Matthew was forced into Russia it is no wonder no one could find him there. It is dangerous territory and hard to survey. What worries me is why Russia singled out Canada in the first place. What made him decide Canada was his target?"

Britain looked down the table at Germany with a sympathetic look, "I know you are concerned for your brother. We are not asking you to keep him prisoner forever or treat him as such. Just to make sure somebody always knows where he is around the time of Alfred's next birthday. We will have to keep Matthew in our sights around that time as well. It is not an unreasonable request. I can imagine if you were the one in our shoes right now that you may have eliminated the threat to your brother already. No one here has laid a hand against Prussia. Well America did belt him one, but that was well deserved. Gilbert is still alive and so is Matthew. We have to keep it that way. It seems we all have to be wary of Russia."

Germany agreed whole-heartedly…but couldn't bring himself to speak at the moment, because he was far, _far_ more upset about France's manhandling of _his_ Italy! He sat, arms crossed, eyes shut in anger as he struggled to contain himself. But now there were two, three, four veins poking out of his forehead. And when France started laughing in his 'hon hon hon' way all over again, it was far too much for Ludwig to take.

"Allright dat's quite enough! Get your ekelhaft (disgusting) hands off of him! You really are a pervert!" Reaching out to the seat next to him, Germany effortlessly shoved France off of Feliciano by way of his face. With a crash the blonde country went down to the floor. Italy, apparently _loved_ this aggressive display of possession over him, for he turned to Germany with stars in his eyes.

"Ve! Germania! You protected me!" Germany let out a huff, quickly turning the other way so as not to look directly into such a cute face. If he did, it would be his undoing.

"Only because you're too veak to do anything by yourself! You need to shape up! Be stronger! Don't let perversen's like dis take advantage of you!" But his barking orders only seemed to make Italy even more enthralled with him. Leaning in, he quickly threw his arms around the tougher, chiseled country.

"I-a-love-a-Germania! Ve! He-a takes care of me! And he-a protects me! And he-a makes-a-sure I don't mistake-a-da-dishsoap for juice!"

"Ach du lieber…" Now of course, even the tough Germany's cheeks were beginning to change color with embarrassment. Especially when America started laughing all over again.

"Dishsoap! Hahaha! Haha ha ha hahahah! Even I'm not that dumb, right Arty!" He elbowed the poor hung-over Brit in the ribs. Arthur immediately winced due to the pain.

"Perhaps you are…you twit…" he mumbled in misery.

"EH-HEM!" Germany quickly cleared his throat to get everyone back down to business. He just hated all of the round-about silliness that always seemed to take place when more than two countries got together to discuss something, or anything!

"Look! Ve agree vith Britain's assessment. Ve shall keep an eye on Gilbert, you shall keep an eye on Canada, unt ve shall report any strange happenings to von another if any should occur. Ve shall be especially diligent around ze date of ze fourth of July." And now Italy was rubbing his cheek up and down Germany's arm, and humming a song to himself as he continued to latch on like a leech.

"Vill you shtop dat? I'm tryink to have a civil _conversation_! Gott!"

France sat on the floor looking utterly dejected. He thrust his head to the side rather dramatically.

Ignoring his brother's fit Britain continued to stare at Germany as he spoke. He had already had half a cup a coffee and put the McDonalds cup to his mouth finishing off the second half in one faithful gulp. After finishing the coffee Britain nodded in agreement with what Germany had said. Then a thought hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Our next world meeting is coming up soon, right? That's probably the next time we will all see each other. Blimey. That meeting is only a few days away, isn't it? Oh my God! Being here I forgot all about it. I have yet to prepare anything!" He turned glaring at America, "This is your fault. That meeting is to talk about that damn election of yours! Buggar! That puts all of us and Russia in the same place, too. We'll have to see him. I'm assuming Gilbert would come just to see Canada, am I right?"

Britain tried to think about how future events could lead to World War Three, "There's no way to know for sure if this meeting had anything to do with anything or not. This is so frustrating." Britain ran his hands through his hair. His head was still pounding, but at least it was slowly becoming more manageable, "All we can do is be cautious."

"Dude…my head's spinning…" Alfred groaned. Everyone ignored him.

"Ok," Germany agreed. "Den ve vill all prepare, unt meet again at zee next world meetink in a few days."

Standing up, Italy still glued to his arm, it was clear the meeting was over. Germany and Italy headed to their room to 'pack' which was funny, because there wasn't anything to pack (unless Germany was stuffing Italy back into the suitcase.) Then they would prepare to leave. But of course, they had to wait for Prussia to emerge from the bedroom with Canada first before they could take him home.

America, seeing an opportunity (he was good at that), hurried out of the dining hall and instead down to the bedrooms. Hustling, he quickly found the bedroom Gilbert and Matthew were talking in. There was no way he was going to miss this!

Leaning in, and being as sneaky as he could, he pressed his ear against the closed door in order to eaves drop.

Of course there were certain disadvantages with only being able to listen to the conversation and not seeing it. Everything inside of the room was going fine. In fact the two men had covered much in the time they'd been talking. After such a conversation Prussia rested his hand in Canada's hair and held him close. After not being able to be near his boyfriend for the past day he was glad to hold the other nation in his arms and bury his face in the wavy, golden hair.

"West iz ready to go I'mz sure. Probably checkingz his watch everyz minute. Letz make zem wait."

Canada was glad to see that with all the seriousness of the conversation dredged through Prussia had turned back into his normal self. Prussia's 'ass' personality was still intact as well. Canada smiled as he let Prussia hold him.

"Your brother is like that. Always like clockwork and reliable, eh. We probably shouldn't keep them waiting. Alfred's still worried about me being with you." Canada let his eyes drift towards the door. He leaned forward and whispered into Prussia's ear, "He's spying at the door." Prussia's eyebrows knit together. He whispered back to his boyfriend as his red eyes drifted to the door.

"How du you know zhat?" Canada shrugged his shoulders. Giving the universal indicator that he didn't know the exact answer to that question. Then he whispered back.

"It's always been like that. I can always tell where he is, and he's spying on us."

Prussia continued to stare at the door and then he got a wonderful idea. He let go of Canada. Then he hopped up off of the bed and tiptoed over to the door. With an audible click the door locked. Prussia snickered and quickly ran back towards his confused boyfriend. He leapt at Canada. Playing, he toppled the smaller nation over and sat once more on top of Canada's stomach. All of Prussia's sudden actions made the quiet Canadian let out a startled, "Eh!" As his boyfriend's weight pushed him down on the bed sheets.

Prussia hovered over his boyfriend. That sly Prussian smirk plastered on his face as he stared into Canada's indigo eyes. Then loudly he said.

"He zhould be worried about the awezome me. I promised to conquer Canada's vital regions!" Canada felt his cheeks turning red as Gilbert reached down taking off his glasses. Matthew lost track of where Prussia placed them somewhere off on the bed. Instead his eyes widened as he stared up at his boyfriend.

"Gilbert. I don't think now is really the time." Canada squirmed, "I'm sure they're waiting for you. My br-brother is listening." Prussia reached out gently putting his finger on Matthew's lips to silence him. A very mischievous smile plastered all over the albino's features.

"Let zem wait. Let unawezome listen. The awezome me haz awezome things to do to you." He said the last line much louder than was needed so America was sure to hear it loud and clear.

"A-aw-awezome things to do?" Matthew felt his cheeks flush at that. His face was burning, "Gi-G-Gilbert really! Stop! Now isn't-" Then Prussia reached out gently taking Canada's face in his hands. Canada knew his boyfriend was serious about going ahead with his plans to torment Alfred. It was also a bit theatrical when Prussia laughed loudly and then turned directing his voice at the door.

"Of course we donz need to ztop! We canz do it quickly! Do notz worry Matthew! I am a pro!" He snickered as he looked down at his boyfriend, "Come on Matthew! Play along." He said the last part much more quietly so America wouldn't hear. Then he leaned down planting a kiss on his boyfriend's lips.

Well, that was quite enough of that. Alfred had wanted to eaves drop simply to make sure that Prussia was indeed trustworthy, and that his little brother was safe, but there was no way in Hell he was going to let him sex up his little bro right there in his own house, even if he _did,_ kinda, sorta, maybe, give his blessing.

He gave no warning; there was only a quick, loud CRACK as he kicked in the locked door with his freakish strength. And so, standing in the door, eyes a bit crazy looking, he proceeded to march inside the bedroom.

"_Duuuude!_" He yelled, clearly unable to find anything more articulate for the moment. Striding in with wide steps on long legs, he reached the bed. Lashing out, he grabbed onto the back of Prussia's shirt and yanked him rather effortlessly off of Canada. He pulled him off of the bed and onto his feet. Whipping him around, he stared into his face, his blue eyes just full of the crazies.

"Dude! No! Dude! Just no! No dude!" Far too wrapped up in the moment and too protective to find words in his own language, that was really all he could muster. All the same, the message was _very_ clear.

Gilbert's smirk was priceless. He stood on his own two feet just in front of America. His red eyes stared unwavering into America's with a spark of glee.

"What'z iz it unawezome? Your brother and I were just going to say goodbye. It may be a littlez while until I see him again. I just have to make sure he rememberz me."

Canada lay on the bed. His face still tomato red in embarrassment, but the longer he laid there the more his humiliation started to turn into anger. His hands slowly clenched into fist and he trembled as he glared at his boyfriend's back. Prussia was playing around so much that it was slightly maddening. Slowly Canada raised his foot up and aimed a well placed kick at Prussia's back.

"Can't you take anything serious, Gilbert! Can't you try and be a little bit more romantic!" Canada kicked out nailing Prussia in his lower back. Canada had simply been trying to get his boyfriend's attention, but the movement knocked Prussia forward and onto a stunned America. Canada's eyes widened in shock and horror as he watched Prussia's lips land on his brother's. The Northern twin felt his eye twitch as he watched the scene unfold in slow motion.

Prussia had been in America's face, a triumphant grin plastered on him. That had been until he felt a foot slam into his back, and he stumbled forward. He fell forward mere millimeters from America's, and then the worst thing he'd never imagined happened. As he stumbled he fell forward against America and his lips met with the Southern twin's. In that one moment poor Prussia looked like he would die. His white hair seemed to stand on end as a shiver shot through his body. He jerked away from America quickly wiping at his mouth.

"Mon Gott! (My God!) Ahh!" He cried in horror as he tried to clean off his foul mouth.

Poor, poor America. He stood in silence, unmoving due to his shock. For a few ghastly seconds, he simply didn't budge, or blink or breathe. But then slowly, he lifted a hand to his lips, which had been soiled.

"…" But for once in his life, America really didn't have any comebacks. His stony face then began to crack under pressure, his right eye twitched, then his left. And for several seconds it was hard to tell if he was about to burst into a fit of anger, or if he were instead about to cry. It was hard to tell for some time as he appeared fairly torn between both reactions.

He battled himself, and then finally, burst into a sudden frenzy of action. He lashed out, quite reflexively, and punched Prussia right in the black eye he'd already given him the night before. With a cry, and tears in his eyes, he then immediately turned away from the pair and ran out of the room yelling,

"These lips are only for Mexico!" Which of course had been quite a mistake too, because America was _trying_ to keep his little crush on the other country a secret. God forbid anyone put that together, and then view him as weak.


	9. The World Meeting

**Note fron the authors:** Sorry this chapter took so long to get up everyone. It's very long! A good 20 pages and full of some great action and character development. As such, it took us forever to edit it. I hope it was worth the wait!

~Spotofpaint and Artiluna55

**Chapter 9**

The World Meeting

Canada was feeling guilty for having shoved his boyfriend into his brother, and the resulting injury that had been caused. As such Canada carefully tended to Prussia's black eye. He fussed over his boyfriend which was something Prussia didn't mind. He was still recovering from being cut off from his boyfriend for a number of long, horrendous hours. The albino liked having Canada within arm's reach again.

Germany had waited for as long as he could for his brother to come out on his own, but when the taxi he had called arrived he had to go fetch his older brother and tell him it was time to go in a minute. Canada walked to the front of the house and gave his boyfriend an ice pack for the trip back to Germany's house, and he walked with his boyfriend to the taxi.

The trip had gone nothing like anyone had originally planned, and as a result Germany had no luggage and most of Prussia's things were still back at Canada's house. Canada offered to mail Prussia's things back, but Prussia simply said he'd collect them on his next trip over. With a hug and an awkward kiss because Canada was not so enthusiastic to kiss in front of Germany, Britain, and America who were all staring; Canada and Prussia said goodbye. Then throughout the day all of the nations departed from America's home. Canada was the last to leave, and he stood just beside his car as he waited for his brother to hurry up and join him on the drive back to his house up North.

After everyone was gone and Alfred was in the car with his brother, he called the construction company and gave them permission to completely demolish his house. Then rebuild it just as it was…without a second floor.

Once that order of business was taken care of, Alfred did his duty as an older brother and proceeded to be annoying and bothersome to Canada. Sometimes he was bothersome on purpose, other times quite by accident, just by being himself. America was an annoyance throughout the car ride to the Canadian border. Then the car ride to Canada's house. Then once the twins arrived at Canada's house, America immediately complained about the cold. Then he complained about the snow. Then the small size of Matthews's house compared to his own. Then he whined that there was no coffee, and nothing good on TV, and no video games to play.

No, he didn't want to read a book. Books were for nerds. No he didn't want to play hockey because Canada always won. No, he didn't want to go outside and build a snowman, it was way too frigid. No he didn't want pancakes, he wanted a burger.

Granted, his entire trip couldn't be entirely horrible. He did enjoy spending time with his younger brother, and Matthew did enjoy spending time with Alfred too. Unfortunately, after several days together, both of them were pretty fed up with one another, as how it seems to go with family. And so, after one too many noogies and pranks from Alfred, who honestly was trying to have fun and cheer his brother up, the more northern of the twins was ready to get to the world meeting so that Alfred could just get on a plane and go back home to America where he belonged.

The two had to endure another long car ride to the airport, then another insufferable plane trip across the sea in order to get to the world meeting. But finally, the twins arrived. The two stepped in through the doors of the meeting room together, something that they had never done before. It may have come as a surprise to a few of the other countries, especially certain countries that perhaps had taken notice of Canada's usual isolation, and perhaps may have been planning to use it to their advantage in some way.

"What up bitches? Let's get this party started!" America cried as the twins entered, making his usual grand entrance, only this time, his brother close at his elbow.

Starting up his usual routine as a social butterfly, America began skimming his way through the room, chatting up the other countries, but only the ones he liked. But when it would come time for the meeting to begin, he would once again be at his brother's side, ever present, and oddly very mindful of him, despite the bad jokes and the slaps across Canada's back which appeared painful, but all the same were meant as a gesture of brotherly love. It was definitely a change in the super powers usual habits.

Canada scanned the meeting room. His indigo eyes were looking around for a certain someone. He wasn't surprised when he didn't see Prussia. The albino had no business being there after all. They probably hadn't let him this far into the building since he wasn't a nation anymore. Prussia hadn't been a part of these meetings for years, but Canada felt his heart sink a bit. He'd wanted to see his boyfriend. He assumed Prussia was outside somewhere, and with that thought he quickly felt his spirits lift. He could get a moment of peace from his brother and go see his boyfriend. He only needed to ask Germany where Prussia was waiting on their first break.

However, his thoughts of reunion were rudely interrupted as his brother spotted him and hurried over after his initial round of greetings with his fellow nations.

"Sup bro? This meeting rooms smaller than the last one yeah? It can hardly contain my awesomeness!" America quickly slapped him across the back once again, affectionately, but all the same, far too roughly.

Matthew shot America a sideways glare; but, just like he had thought, his glare did nothing to stop his brother's rough antics. A second later Canada felt himself looking around the room at everyone. Normally no one would be looking his way. He was used to no one ever looking his way, but it seemed like today every nation was staring at him.

He felt a bit startled when he looked up and found Britain, France, Germany, Japan, Russia, and even China staring, and those were just the familiar nations. _At lease Italy is still staring at Germany,_ he thought to himself. As he kept glancing around the room he was aware that the new brotherly interactions between himself and America were drawing attention of a lot more nations.

Everyone who had no knowledge of the previous incident was wondering why America was being so interactive at his brother's side. It had to be an odd sight. Matthew was usually invisible at these meetings after all. He'd wanted to get more involved at these meetings, but his brother's behavior was drawing him attention for all the wrong reasons.

"Can you please calm down?" Matthew found himself requesting in his quiet tone, but as usual it seemed his brother hadn't heard him as he was already turning to tell Spain a joke.

_Go figure_. Matthew rolled his eyes. He was really on his last straw with Alfred. As the last few days had passed Canada discovered that the longer he was in close proximity to his brother the more he wanted to whack the over pretentious American with a hockey stick. He didn't know how much longer he could handle his twin.

Lost in thought for the first half of the meeting he was eager when the first break came. He was bubbling with excitement when Britain and France walked over. When Britain started talking to America about the state of America's economy Canada saw an opportunity to go and find Prussia. Of course the moment he went to walk away America noticed, but Canada raised his hands halting his brother.

"I'm going to find Gilbert. I want to talk to him. You stay here. I'll be right back." Britain of course saw the look on Canada's face and could tell that Canada was a bit unhappy with his brother's constant presence. He thought it would be a good time to let Matthew go off alone. The break was only for 30 minutes anyway. Britain reached out taking a hold on America's shoulder to draw the younger nation's attention towards him.

"America let him go. I still need to talk to you."

But Alfred really just couldn't help but to be worried as he watched his brother leave. He may have been really good at keeping up pretenses, but that horrible day around a week ago was still haunting him. He was still having bad dreams…it was hard not to when he'd seen his own dead body strewn out on the floor before him…and no amount of joking or a carefree attitude seemed to make that go away. Lifting his eyes from his seat at the table, he looked up to Britain who stood just next to him.

"But…Russia's here Arthur…" he said quietly so none of the other countries would overhear. And Arthur, in seeing his son's face, could truly tell how worried he really was. America may have put up a front most of the time, but at least with Matthew and Arthur, he sometimes let it slip. Arthur felt for him, but knew that Matthew needed some time alone or he'd go crazy, and the Brit certainly didn't need a phone call about the two of them fighting in any serious type of way.

"You should be more concerned about your country right now," Arthur suggested, purposefully changing the subject. "You've been ignoring your duties. Aren't you the least bit worried about the fiscal cliff America's approaching?"

Alfred winced. Of course he was worried about the stupid fiscal cliff. It was all anyone in America was talking about since the elections were over. Even though his head hadn't really been in the game the past few weeks, he wasn't completely blind to the major problems his country was now facing. Even being away, he'd been taking plenty of phone calls from his boss…a worried, overtired, stressed boss, who was doing everything he could to avoid said cliff.

"Congress is working on it ok? Neither side of the aisle wants us to go over the cliff. We're doing what we can. You and your European friends can stop wigging out. This is America we're talking about here. We're stronger than that."

Alfred hadn't meant to be so short with Arthur. He knew he was just concerned, but…he was still so worried about Matthew. And of course, Arthur was right. It was hard to worry about two things at the same time. Maybe he wasn't working as hard as he should have been on the economy since all of his attention was on his brother.

America sighed, resting his chin in his hand. He certainly didn't want any of the _other_ countries noticing or questioning his lack of attention to details as of late. Hopefully they were all too absorbed in themselves or each other, as usual, to take notice. But as he looked out across the meeting hall, Alfred immediately saw a difference in a few of them.

Germany certainly was paying closer attention than usual. Which was hard for him, since he was always so observant to begin with. But the moment he met America's eye, he casually glanced away so as not to call attention to the fact that he may have had some connection with the North American country.

With Italy there was no change. He was still fawning over Germany, oblivious to the tensions around him. No worries there. But…it was a few of the other countries America noticed that suddenly had him more worried than before.

China was glancing his way, instead of gloating to one of the younger countries about how ancient and wise he was. And as soon as their eyes met, he turned away…but not in the same manner Germany had.

_Oh my God…I hope I'm just being paranoid…_ But he couldn't help but to _hate_ the fact that Matthew had left the room without him. That and…

…Alfred's blue eyes widened with a touch of panic when he scanned the room a second time. There was a key player that was missing. A country that he wanted to know the whereabouts of at all times especially with Matthew out of the room.

"Arthur!" He hissed in an urgent whisper. "Where's Russia?"

"What?" Britain's eyes widened when he looked around the conference room and found the creepy vibe country was nowhere in sight. He felt his heart skip a beat. He raised his hand to his chest and forced himself to relax. Playing off his fear he simply straightened out his collar and patted at the wrinkles in his shirt.

"It's a world meeting. He probably stepped out for coffee or refreshments." He whispered back to his son. A second glance of the room did confirm that Russia was gone. It wasn't like Russia would skip the second half of the meeting. There would be no way for him to hurt Canada here. _None at all. _Britain reassured himself.

Then that feeling he got when he held his dead son came creeping back. That horrendous sorrow and pain, which no amount of alcohol seemed to erase. He couldn't ignore it no matter how hard he tried. That's when he looked over to the place Matthew had been sitting. There was Canada's cell phone sitting on his chair. Most likely it had fallen out of his pocket. Britain walked over to the electronic device and casually picked it up. Maybe Matthew left it behind so Alfred couldn't bother him, but it gave Britain a quick cover story. The island nation quickly walked towards the door of the conference room.

"Come on, lad. I think your brother forgot his phone. I think he went to the front entrance. Let's take it back to him."

At the front entrance of the building Matthew was happily in his boyfriend's arms. After finding a quiet area away from the eyes of any prying nations Matthew found himself smiling as he quickly kissed his boyfriend and went about forgetting all about his annoying brother. Prussia was banned to the outside stairs at the front of the building, but he was quite content to have come to the world meeting and be reunited with his boyfriend. They had only talked for a few minutes when Canada realized his cell phone was missing. The Northern twin rolled his eyes in aggravation.

"If Alfred tries to call me and can't reach me he'll have a heart attack." Canada let out a heavy sigh as he quickly came to the realization he would have to go back for his phone. He may have been fed up with his brother, but he did not want to panic America by being unreachable. He knew his brother was still haunted by the events that had taken place last week, and he did not want to traumatize America. He turned to Prussia with a sad look, "I have to go back to the meeting room. I'll be right back, Gilbert. I promise."

Gilbert smirked, "Zo when zu get back to the awezome me, I shall havz food waiting?" He pointed over to a vendor food cart that was selling street food. Prussia had taken most of the morning to explore the immediate area, and the food cart had seemed to be the most appealing food nearby.

Canada laughed as his eyes traveled to the place Prussia was pointing, "Sure. It's a date. I'll be right back." He ran back into the embassy building. He had walked through the checkpoint at the front door and was heading for the elevator when he felt a sudden chill go down his spine. Then a recognizable voice called out to him, "Comrade Matvey!"

Canada was a bit surprised when he saw Russia of all people walking up to him. That was the last person he wanted to run into.

_Maple_!

Where was that stupid brother of his when he needed him? Matthew laughed nervously as he stared back at Russia. His hand went up to his head and he nervously scratched at his scalp. He tried to calm his nerves and offered back a friendly hello. He tried to remind himself that nothing had happened, and Russia had done nothing wrong…yet. Still a bit nervous he looked back towards the entrance of the building, but Canada knew Prussia couldn't help with the situation. Gilbert wouldn't be able to see through the stupid tinted glass plus he was locked outside. He was looking around for anyone else he knew, but Canada was pulled out of his thoughts as Russia spoke once more.

"Can I have a vord vith you Comrade?"

"A word? Wi-with me?" Canada stuttered a bit nervously, "I was in a hurry. I left something in the conference room." He raised his hand and pointed back towards the elevator that lead up to the meeting room.

"This vill only take minute." Russia reached out grabbing Canada's wrist and started dragging him towards the building stairwell, "Ve can take this vay back to meeting room. That vay ve have time to talk."

_Merde! (Shit)_. Matthew's mind whirled at the current situation, but he knew he had to act normal. He wanted to scream in all honesty. Even if this Russia had done nothing wrong, this was still the son of a bitch who had killed him and his brother in some future world after all. Unfortunately, there were pretences to keep up here. _Russia hasn't done anything yet_; Canada forced the thought through his head and tried to calm his nerves. Still Russia scared everyone; well everyone except for Alfred, but anyone with a brain was wary of the ice nation.

Russia wasn't surprised by Canada's reluctance to be with him. Canada had always been the shy and nervous type, and Canada had always been nervous when he was in his company. Russia was used to nations acting a certain way in his presence.

"I have simple question really," Russia reassured.

Matthew felt himself cursing internally again as Russia pulled him through the heavy, metal door marked stairs, and they started a long and winding path up. It was times like this he wished Alfred could be more in tune with his twin sense. Hell, if he could get a 'post-it note from his twin sense' it would've been awesome. Why didn't that twin distress thing work in reverse?

Russia smiled back at a very nervous Canada as they rounded the bend in the stairs and proceeded up. Russia had seen Prussia meandering around the building earlier in the day. He had come down to find his old friend, but he had found something else all together.

"Comrade Matvey. Are you seeing Comrade Gilbert by chance?"

_Oh Maple. How in the holy maple leaf?_ Matthew cursed to himself. He was brought out of his self berating when Russia's smile grew larger. It freaked the Northern twin out even more. Russia's eyes closed as he smiled down at Canada, "You vere vith Comrade Gilbert, va?"

Canada found his stomach sinking. True they were hanging out together outside, but they had been careful to stay away from other nations. Did Russia mean romantically seeing Prussia or just seeing the other ex-nation as a friend perhaps? Paranoia started to sink in. Had Russia followed him? Had he been watching him? All the events of the past week came flooding back into his mind and suddenly all the things his future brother had said seemed a lot more terrifying.

"Uhh." Canada was trying to think of anything to say when Russia spun around in front of him and faced the shorter nation on the stairs. Canada suddenly felt a large amount of pressure on the wrist that Russia was still dragging him around by. Matthew felt his face start to tense from the pain.

Russia only smiled down at Canada, "I vas just curious. You seemed to be very familiar vith comrade Gilbert. Am I right?" For every word he spoke the larger nation seemed to squeeze Canada's wrist harder until the smaller nation swore something popped.

"You're going to break my wrist, Russia!" Canada yelled in his ever quiet manner as he tried to pull his hand away.

With a small laugh and a quick apology Russia dropped Canada's wrist, and Canada pulled the bruising appendage to his chest. That had seriously hurt. Canada was convinced he wouldn't be able to write anything with the throbbing appendage anytime soon. He half stared, half glared up at Russia. Then nervously he quickly looked around the empty stairwell for a place to run if he needed it. He really didn't want to attempt fighting the other nation.

"Vhy is it taking you so long. Ansver question. Is that vhy comrade America stay vith you today?" Russia smirked at his self assessment of the situation.

Canada's eyes grew larger still, "I…Alfred is a little worried. That's all. Why do you want to know a-about Prussia?" He couldn't keep the nervousness out of his voice as he spoke.

Outside Gilbert sat on the stairs leading up to the building where all the nations were gathered; he had a bag of some strange concoction in his hand. He could have cared less about what he ate. He was much more focused on who he was eating with. Having finally taken a step forward in their relationship, Prussia was eager to spend as much time as he could with his boyfriend. Not only because he liked being in Canada's presence. With all that had happened, he felt a strong need to prove his loyalty to not only Canada and Canada's family, but he needed to prove it to himself.

He knew the North American twins had a hard time with the things that the future America had told them. It had been nearly impossible for Prussia. He had to let the words of his proposed betrayal sink in. He had actually been in Germany before he had seriously thought of it again but hearing of such cowardly actions about himself was unbearable. A great nation, well former nation but still, he could never imagine a world where he would betray his boyfriend for any reason. As such he had to prove to everyone and himself just how awesome of a boyfriend he could be.

He tapped his foot on the cement as he impatiently waited to see Canada again. He couldn't start proving his awesomeness with said boyfriend being absent. With a heavy sigh he looked back up the stairs to the building and saw Britain and America come outside. He smirked their way.

"Unawezome!" He waved at them not aware anything was wrong, that was until he saw the look on America's face. The twin looked apprehensive. There were only a few things America could get so worked up about. It made Prussia's stomach sink before Britain spoke.

"Shove it Prussia," Britain quickly said. He looked around and didn't see his son, "Where's Matthew?"

Gilbert blinked in confusion and then his worry grew, "He went back to get his phone. That was minutes ago. Didn't you see him?"

Alfred felt a jolt of fear pierce his heart. He struggled not to just panic outright. Even though they weren't inside the meeting hall, the other countries were still milling about since it was break time. If any one of them saw Britain and America all worked up over something, then things could turn ugly. They weren't sure who was on Russia's side, if anyone at this point in time. It would be very bad to give away the knowledge they had of future events to the enemy by mistake.

All the same, America hadn't ever been the type to think ahead or plan things carefully. That had always been Arthur's field of expertise. No…America was much more the type to do as he felt, and act first and think about it later. And right now, he felt like running through the halls screaming his brother's name.

All the same…he didn't. He knew that could end up putting Matthew in even greater danger if there was more than one country to be wary of. All the same, even though Alfred was able to put a cap on his rising anxiety for once in his life, he couldn't keep it all hidden. Much paler than usual, and already sweating, he 'calmly' turned to Arthur.

"I'm going to go search the building," he said. And before Arthur could even object, Alfred reassured him, "Don't worry, I'll try not to call attention to the situation." And then he turned and hurried back inside.

Stifling his urge to run, he instead walked swiftly through the halls turning his gaze down every hall and every door he passed. His heart pounding from within his chest, he feared that perhaps Russia had gotten Matthew trapped somewhere, like in the bathroom, or on the roof. Having no idea if Russia could perhaps lock Canada in one of the many rooms of the government building, or even if Canada was even with Russia to begin with, all he could do was search door by door, hall by hall.

_Maybe he _**is**_ just in the rest room?_ Praying this was the case, he headed to the nearest men's room, but just as he went to push the swing door inward, it was instead pushed out and before he knew it he was face to face with China. The two countries stopped, seeing as they were in each other's way. But because of this, China had a few good seconds to take in America's appearance. His large brown eyes blinked as he took him in.

"Hey, you maybe don't look so good," he said. But of course, anyone would have been able to tell that, enemy or not. Alfred quickly tried to think up some sort of excuse for perhaps not appearing as his usual self. He quickly laughed it off, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Uh…yeah! Hurricane Sandy last week really did a number on me! Still not totally over it, man," he said awkwardly. "Err…can I get by you? I need the bathroom."

But Alfred was surprised when China didn't move aside right away. Instead, he leaned in, staring harder at the super power, his eyes quite scrutinizing. China may have been a bit shorter than America, but not much ever got passed him. He was one of those countries that were really observant…unlike himself.

"Hmm…" he mumbled. "You been acting weird all meeting. I think something may have happened other than hurricane."

Well that only made Alfred sweat more. Not really having any idea what to say, or how to get out of his sudden situation, he tried one more time for the bathroom.

"Some of us have to pee dude…" And then he simply shoved his way past, pushing China aside. China stumbled, then let out a quick huff.

"How rude!" Once inside the bathroom, Alfred quickly checked every stall. But no one was there.

_Shit…_ His fear only escalating due to the entire China run-in, and in not finding Matthew in the bathroom, he quickly headed back out the swinging door. Luckily, China was gone. Time was ticking onward however, and he knew he only had maybe fifteen more minutes until the meeting started back up. He had to find Matt before then…or the whole world would know something was up. If both twins were a no show, it'd be super suspicious.

Turning down the hall, he started to search again. But this time…his heart only raced faster, and his fear becoming almost intolerable, it was very difficult not to call out. He did however…start to walk a little faster. And his speed picked up with each empty hallway he came upon. One by one he checked them, each hall revealing itself to be empty. Down this hall there was no Matt, then on the next, there was no brother. And by the fourth empty hallway, he was jogging. Again, no Matthew here, or there, or down this one. And by the eighth hallway, he was running.

Before he knew it, he was racing through an empty building, florescent lights shining down on him from above. There was no other life around him, only stone cold walls, and slick tiled floors. And with each passing moment of nothingness, he felt that panic he was fighting start to gain ground.

It was like living in one of the dozens' of nightmares he'd been having. Nightmares where he would just run and run and run and never find his brother.

His chest started to tighten; his breathing became shallow and labored with the ever growing fear. And after his entire search of the first floor was complete, he was ready to let that panic take over.

Coming up on the last hall, only the stairwell at the end of it, he finally gave in and cried out fearfully,

"Matthew!"

Outside the building Britain was trying to pacify Prussia. The albino was pacing and cussing and generally making a scene. Luckily they seemed to be alone, but Britain didn't want to push their luck. It was better to keep a low profile especially with all things considered.

"They zhould be back by now!"

"Calm down you git. This is not a big deal. Matthew is fine. I am positive of it." Britain said it to reassure both of them. As the minutes ticked by he was growing more concerned as well.

Prussia walked over to Britain and reached out gently placing his hand over Arthur's heart and conveniently his security badge for the embassy building. Britain might have paid more attention to Prussia's hand if the albino hadn't locked eyes with him and calmly said, "I know zu are worried too. The awezome me would be faster. America's hamburger weight is slowing himz down." Prussia stepped away from Britain and continued to pace for only a second more.

"It is a huge building, Prussia. I am sure they will be back any second." Britain closed his eyes and nodded his head. He spoke confidently, still trying to not only reassure Prussia of Canada's safety, but himself as well. Unfortunately when Britain reopened his eyes, Prussia was gone. Britain's eyes grew huge as he quickly looked around and saw Prussia running towards the embassy building.

"Ah! You wanker! Get back here!" Britain took off running after Prussia. All hopes of keeping a low profile would be ruined if Prussia caused a scene at the door of the building.

Prussia stormed into the building and ran up to the security check point. He quickly held out the security badge he'd just stolen, showing the security guard the badge while conveniently covering the picture of Britain's face. The security guard who was doing about 5 things at once waved him through without a second glance. Playing the situation as smoothly as possible Prussia took off down the halls of the building to find his missing boyfriend.

Britain had followed quickly after Prussia, stopping just in front of the security desk. He was shocked that Prussia had gotten through. He reached up to his chest pocket and went to show off his security badge when he realized it was missing from its rightful place. His green eyes widened in surprise. He spun around looking back outside the embassy doors.

_Did I drop it outside?_

Suddenly his eyes grew larger still as he realized the exact moment when the Prussian had stolen it. His thick eyebrows lowered knitting together in frustration as he heard Prussia barreling through the halls calling for America.

"America! Where ze hell are you! Canada!" Prussia yelled out for either sibling. Britain found himself rolling his eyes as he quickly exited the building and tried to avoid unwanted attention. At least Prussia was always one to cause scenes, so even this behavior wasn't so odd Britain thought as he walked back outside of the building.

Canada's eyes darted down the stairwell door. He and Russia had walked up a flight of the winding staircase, but he could still hear his brother calling out his name. His eyes darted from the downstairs door and then back towards Russia nervously.

"Eh. It's been nice. I should go. Alfred needs something." Canada swore his voice was even quieter when he was nervous.

Russia who was standing on a higher stair simply looked down at him with that creepy smile that made Canada's insides squirm. Taking any excuse to leave Canada went to turn and start back down the stairs when Russia reached out. He was more than a little startled when Russia's arm reached out wrapping itself around his upper shoulders and neck. It abruptly halted him, but the former communist wasn't hurting him, just thoroughly freaking him out.

"You tell my former comrade something, Da?" Russia said quietly and cheerfully into the Northern twin's ear. Matthew suddenly felt his insides freeze over as Russia whispered into his ear.

Russia who had been bent over to whisper in Canada's ear suddenly stood up straight and kept the hold he had on Matthew. The Northern twin felt his feet leave the floor as Russia easily picked him up. Matthew felt himself panic as his feet left the floor. His feet started flailing in the air trying to reach back down to the floor and with no warning he felt Russia drop him.

Because he had been flailing he was unable to correct himself from the quick drop. His feet rolled underneath him, and he felt himself tumble forward and uncoordinatedly he fell. The left side of his face met with the edge of a lower stair before he was once more flipping over and rolling to a stop at the bottom of the stairs where he laid sprawled out in pain.

Matthew let out a very loud cry as he raised his good hand to his face. A dark, purple bruise was quickly appearing below his left eye on his cheek bone. His glasses had been knocked off and were lying off on the stairs. Having smacked the left side of his face against the corner of the cement stairs a very dark purple bruise was already forming along his cheek bone and was starting to swell. As such Matthew clutched his face in pain as he tasted blood in his mouth. He'd obviously bit something inside of his mouth during the fall.

Russia blinked from his spot on the stairs and then he calmly called out in a concerned way, "Comrade Matvey. Are you alright?"

America had paused just for a moment when he heard Prussia calling his name from behind him…but then…he heard his brother scream.

"Matt!" Terrified, he burst into the stairwell just ahead of him, and when he did…he found his brother. He lay at his feet on the landing, clutching his face. Alfred spotted his glasses, scattered to the right. Alfred wasn't sure what had happened, but he could clearly see that his little brother was hurt.

"Matthew!" Immediately, he was kneeling at his side. Reaching out his hands, he very carefully and more gently than the other countries thought him capable of, touched his hands to Canada's wounded face.

He had been planning on inspecting him to see how hurt he was…but that's when he saw the droplets of blood come from his lips. Alfred's eyes widened.

Again, he had no idea how this had happened. He didn't know if Russia had punched his brother, shoved him down the stairs, or perhaps tripped him. But he did know one thing…he knew Russia had hurt his little brother. He knew this was his fault and that he'd done this on purpose.

Lifting his gaze from his twin, America's usually bright blue eyes flashed dangerously, and America was one of those countries that most didn't want to piss off. His face darkened and as quickly as a cloud coming to cover the sun, he was suddenly very treacherous looking. He let a low, fearsome growl come from the back of his throat, then he carefully rose to his feet. And once he was upright, there was no hesitation. Sight fixated on his enemy, he flew forward, feet launching him up the flight of stairs effortlessly. Without a word, and in a blind rage, he drew back his fist and slammed it forward.

There was the satisfying 'crunch' of his knuckles connecting and digging into Russia's soft flesh on the left side of his face. He started to sway backward and America moved to follow, keeping his momentum. He was fully prepared to hit him again. Too angry for words, he simply let out a furious yell as he attacked.

The first fist connected effortlessly. Russia was more than a bit surprised by America's speed up the staircase to attack him. No witty comment? No further questions about what happened? No poking at his brother for answers? America was usually one to joke off situations after all, but then again America was also quick to attack when he was riled up. Russia always forgot that even if America ate his far share of burgers he could still move pretty quickly.

Russia righted himself on the stairs. The large nation planted his feet firmly, and then the icy nation reached up quickly catching America's next fist in his hand, halting him in his attack. He still had that huge smile on his face and a fair amount of strength himself. His purple eyes momentarily glanced down the stairs when he saw Prussia kneeling by Canada's side. Russia's smile only grew as he held onto America's fist. Then he looked back at America and stared into America's eyes coldly.

"Comrade Amerika. You can see your brother today, da? That's new." Russia was used to America utterly treating his twin like he was invisible. Russia remembered a few meetings when he'd accidentally sat on the Northern twin and no one seemed to notice. Why was America being like this today?

Still holding America's hand Russia had dodged another attempted punch from the other nation. Having evaded the move Russia reached up and placed his free hand on America's face. Then using more strength than was necessary he roughly shoved the southern twin down the stairs.

Prussia who had been looking his boyfriend over and assessing his condition had looked up just in time to see what was happening. Prussia was up on his feet and running underneath the super power in order to keep him from colliding with the floor like his brother had.

There wasn't much America could do against gravity. He felt his stomach lurch into his throat as he fell, and all he could really do was hope to God that he didn't land on top of his already injured brother.

But then something odd happened; he felt someone attempt to catch him. Of course, he was too heavy and he had fallen too far, but all the same, he ended up colliding with someone and landing on that person instead of the concrete.

Having finally come to a stop, he opened his eyes to find himself…lying on top of Gilbert of all people.

"Ah!" He cried in surprise. Alfred really had never expected anyone to try and help him. Although he was social, and had quite a few allies…he really hadn't anyone who he was really close with who he could really call a friend. Other than family, that was about it. And so, when he saw Gilbert, he was genuinely surprised.

"Gilbert?" Lying on top of his brother's boyfriend, it was all he could do but to stare. "Dude, you…" but he didn't finish. Glancing back over to his brother, who was only a few feet away, his anger and determination reignited. He was still clutching his face. Tears streaming out from under his hands from the pain he was in, blood dripping from his lips.

_There's no fucking way I'm letting this go! Ever!_ Turning back to look at Gilbert, his face drastically different, he asked him, "Are you hurt?" Gilbert shook his head 'no.' The fire within America only grew more fierce at seeing that he suddenly had an ally with him and that he didn't need to fight alone.

"Come on, Gil. Let's kick Russia's ass!" And then he pushed himself back up, and once on his feet, he reached down, clapping his palm against Gilbert's. He smoothly pulled the pale country up to his feet. Then the pair of them faced Russia together, neither of them looking happy. Both pairs of eyes glared up at the humungous country.

"You're fucking dead meat!" Alfred yelled.

Prussia took off running up the stairs before Alfred had finished yelling. America had gotten a punch in, and he wasn't about to be outdone by Alfred. Gilbert pulled his fist back and punched Russia in the gut, but this only seemed to amuse the ice nation.

Prussia had long since forgone the abilities that had come with being a nation. In truth being a dead country meant he was almost human. His large amount of strength and ability to heal through any injury had long since faded since he had lost his land. He just didn't seem to age at all. Still even with all those fact he was a good fighter and experienced. When his fist connected with his enemy, however, it did more to hurt him than it did Russia. He heard his hand crack and quickly pulled it back. Ignoring the pain and gearing up for another adrenaline filled attack. He would never admit it or let on that he thought he'd broken a knuckle. He knew he couldn't really hurt Russia even if he wanted to. It wasn't going to stop him from trying though.

"Zour fucking iron curtain iz ztill up I zee!" Prussia went to lunge forward again. Despite his discoloring hand he reached out grabbing Russia by his purple scarf and shook him, "The awzome me is going to murder you!"

"Not before me your not!" And just like that, America was at his side. Throwing his own punches, he got a good second one in. But even two on one, Russia was not a country to trifle with. A horrific wave of dingy aura seemed to perforate the air around him as he entered the fight, and even so…there was the sense that the huge nation was just toying with them, or perhaps holding back. The same creepy smile on his face as before, even after getting hit, he reached out, grabbing a hold of Prussia. Seemingly with no effort what-so-ever, he tossed the ghost nation backward and into the wall behind him. Luckily, Gilbert hit a corner and there were no stairs to fall down.

Then, turning his attention to America, he lashed out. America ducked, prepared, then came back up with an uppercut, but Russia was prepared as well. Both large countries evaded each other's blows for several more swings until Gilbert came back into the fray. Leaping onto Russia's back from behind, the albino began to strangle the largest country in the world. Seeing his opening, America threw another punch, but Russia seemed to have been waiting for this. He tossed poor Prussia over his shoulder as America came in and the super power accidentally creamed his fighting partner. With another 'crack,' Prussia was flung back into the same wall.

"Gil!" Briefly distracted, Russia took his opening and rushed in, sharply lifting a knee into America's gut. America let out a brief cry, folding in on himself, and of course, stunned by the pain left him wide open for another hit. Russia didn't waste it and immediately cracked the heel of his boot into the side of America's jaw.

With a cry, Alfred flew into the wall just next to Gilbert. Russia smirked at them.

"Perhaps you underestimate me, no?" Alfred glowered, his blue eyes just as sharp as they were when the battle began.

"Fuck no. I'm not afraid of you, and you're not as strong as you think you are! Come on Gil!" The two prepared to launch themselves at their enemy a second time, but quite suddenly, a sharp, strong, loud cry reverberated up the stairwell.

"SHTOPPEN!" All three countries froze at the sound of a new, but familiar voice. And before anyone had the chance to move or throw another punch, Germany was racing up the stairs. Quickly, and unhesitant, he threw himself between the three warring countries, lifting up his hands to each side.

"Dis is a disgrace! Ve're at a vorld meetink! A meeting designed specifically for zee purpose of helpink us solve our differencez so dat fellow countries do not fight vith von another! I can't believe ve held the meeting for you, just to find you beating zee snot out of von another! Dis is in violation of everything dese meetings stand for! You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

Alfred looked to Germany, knowing full well that he understood what was happening. For several long seconds, Alfred didn't really grasp why he had stopped them, but then he thought he got it: he was trying to protect their cover.

Alfred smiled internally, but didn't let it reach his face. He was finding allies in all sorts of places he never expected. Germany was trying to protect them. Alfred knew he had to play along.

"Yeah…guess this jerk-off isn't worth it anyway…" he grumbled. Turning his head away, he spit out a bit of blood onto the floor. Wiping at his bruising jaw, he looked down the stairs to his brother. "I've more important things to do anyway…"

Turning away from Russia and Germany he started back down the stairs toward his injured family member.

Germany remained put; standing firm and steadfast to make sure the fight was over. He glanced after America as he headed away. He had seen in the super powers face that he understood some of the reasons behind his stopping the fight. Not only was it idiotic, and would blow there cover, but there was more to it than that.

America was the only country that didn't seem to realize how strong Russia actually was. And as such, America was in much greater danger than he ever realized. But even another greater reason Germany stopped the fight…was for Gilbert.

He glanced to his older brother. With a quick look over, he saw that he was hurt. He had several bruises but worst of all was his hand. It was swelling quickly; one of his knuckles was purple and looked very painful.

Ludwig winced internally, but dared not let Russia see it on his face. Ludwig loved his brother and perhaps he was the only one that realized how deadly the situation actually was for Prussia. America certainly didn't realize it, and if Russia did…he didn't take advantage of it. But the horrible truth was that because Prussia was no longer a country. He could get hurt, and die, just like a regular human. And as soon as Germany heard that there was a fight fear had pierced his heart. He couldn't let his brother get hurt. He didn't heal like the other countries anymore.

Germany didn't dare go to his brother in front of Russia, in fear that the huge country would figure this out, if he hadn't already. Instead, pretending that he didn't exactly care, he faced Russia instead.

"You should get back to zee meeting hall. I'll help dese others back myself."

It was then that a cute little brunette poked his head into the stairwell, his eyes full of both curiosity and worry.

"Germania? Is everything-a ay-ok now? Can I come out?" Ludwig winced in seeing Italy. The situation was already dangerous, and he didn't want Russia anywhere near the naïve country.

"Feliciano! Stay vhere you are! I'll be right down!"

Russia's ever present smile never faltered.

"Da. I think I vill head back now. I vould not vant to be late." He stared down the stairwell at the North American twins then over at Gilbert who wasn't getting up. Then he turned to walk up the stairs, "I vill see you all there, da? Comrade Matvey please be more careful in the future." Russia walked up the stairs and through the door leading back into the building's main corridors and was gone.

The comment was almost enough to get Gilbert up off of the floor. He glared as Russia retreated up the stairs. He probably would have gone after him if he hadn't gotten a very disapproving look from his little brother. With his adrenaline fading Gilbert cringed in pain. His body was aching in ways that would still hurt in the days to come. After a moment of assessing his own condition he stared down the stairs at his boyfriend who was still sprawled out on the floor.

"M-Matthew!" He called out and used the wall to stagger to his feet. He was going to Canada's side one way or another.

Russia's comment about this accident somehow being Canada's fault might have been enough to send America after Russia once again if Canada had not been holding his brother's hand at the time. Canada had his injured wrist lying over his chest and with his good hand he tightly held onto Alfred's; Alfred could see that the left side of Matthew's face was swollen. His cheek bone was either cracked or broken, and it was causing his eye to swell shut. Alfred would also be able to note the purple ring around Matthew's wrist since his injured hand was lying across his chest. The Northern brother looked at America; a sad, apologetic look came to his eyes as he tried to reassure his twin that he would be ok.

"I'm sorry," was all Canada could think of to say to his brother. He hated seeing that distraught look on his twin's face. America was all worked up again, and Canada knew his brother's stress level was through the roof once more. After a week of trying to calm America down about the things his future self had said, helping his brother through the nightmare he had been experiencing, but all that hard work to calm Alfred was for nothing; his brother was obviously freaking out once more.

He knew Alfred would feel guilty he'd gotten hurt it was part of his hero complex. America always hated seeing his friends hurt, and Canada wanted to save his brother from as much of the guilt and pain as he could. He did that by gently telling his brother he was going to be fine.

A second later Prussia was at Matthew's side reaching out and gently placing both his hands on Matthew's shoulder.

"Matthew. I got your glasses." Canada smiled at the unusually soft spoken Prussian. Once again Matthew tried to reassure the two nations.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. Really." It was kind of hard to be reassuring when blood kept running out of the corner of his mouth. He'd sliced his tongue open rather well on his way down the stairs, and it had yet to stop bleeding.

America was silent for once in his life as his brother spoke to him and held his hand in support. His own face was throbbing from the hit he'd taken from Russia, but he knew it was nothing compared to what Matthew must have been feeling. For several long moments, he didn't say a word, he simply sat by his brother's side, his breathing heavy with distress.

But then the moment came when Alfred simply couldn't control himself. Damn it all if the other countries saw him be emotional. He was at the point where he was no longer concerned with such trivial things. Reaching out, he grabbed his little brother, and then pulled him up and into his arms. Taking him in against his chest, he wrapped both of his arms around his brother, squeezing him tightly. Bowing his face against his good cheek so as not to hurt him, he let his fear beat its way out of his speeding heart. He was sure Canada could feel it…but he didn't care. Although Alfred didn't talk about it, and had been trying to hide it the past week or so…he was sure Matthew already knew how scared he was. The only change now…was that perhaps he was now letting Gilbert, Germany and Italy know too.

_They're friends…_ he had to remind himself. _It's ok._

And so, he held his brother, for quite a long time.

Germany saw and he understood. He wanted to do the same with his own brother but…he wasn't as free with his emotions. He loved his brother…and he was worried about his injuries…but…they would deal with that behind closed doors. Germany had never been one for public displays of affection. Hell…he even had a hard time with it when he _wasn't _in public. And so, when he calmly walked back down the stairs and to the landing where everyone else was, he casually went to his older brother.

"Vhat vas that all about? Vhat vas Russia trying to accomplish?" Italy, oddly enough, was quiet for once. But he did run back over to Germany's side when he came to the landing.

Matthew buried his face in his brother's neck. He knew Alfred needed him right now. Matthew could feel Alfred's heart racing in his chest. Canada returned his brother's gesture by reaching out and gently wrapping his good arm around his brother.

"It's ok, Al. I-I don't know if he meant to make me fall or not. I'll be ok. It just hurts."

Canada felt Prussia put his hand on top of his head, "I donz give a damnz if he meant to or not." Prussia said through clenched teeth, "Itz hiz fault."

Canada hugged his brother tighter. He buried his face into his brother's shoulder and hid his worried face for a moment as he thought of the words Russia had whispered to him, "Gi-gilbert. Russia told me t-to tell you he'd t-talk to you soon." Canada's tone was quiet and laced with worry as he said the words. He wasn't worried about betrayal, but he was terrified of the idea of his boyfriend facing the crazed country. Prussia's eyes formed an even darker glare as Canada said it.

"Goodz. I'd love to hitz him again." Prussia didn't skip a beat as he said the words. He truly wanted to hit Russia again even if he couldn't do any real damage, it would make him feel better. Prussia let his hand slide from Matthew's head and onto his back supportively. He bit his lower lip for a moment, but he had to say what was on his mind.

"Matthew. I- I wantz to go back to your houze with you. I'm sure America has to go back to work. All of you have to work, but I donz. I canz ztay there. I wonz leave you alone." He gently clutched the fabric on the back of Matthew's jacket. "We zhould get you back to the hotel. Yourz not going back to the meeting are you?"

Canada shook his head no.

"I wouldn't go back like this. It'd be a mess. No one will notice me being absent anyway." If America was absent at the meeting though many eyebrows would be raised, "A lot of us are missing from the meeting." He looked around the stairwell at everybody. "We need to hurry. This could blow our cover." Matthew squeezed his brother tightly. He knew he had to stress the importance of their cover to his brother who was still so visibly shaken. "Alfred. You have to go back to the meeting. Everyone will know something is wrong if you don't."

Alfred wanted to object so terribly. More than anything, but…he knew his brother was right. And what was more…was that things were different now that he'd fought alongside Gilbert. That simple act had made America trust him so much more than he ever would have before. Viewing Gilbert as an ally now, instead of a threat, he nodded. He knew Gilbert would watch over Matthew for him and keep his little brother safe. And so, he found the courage to pull back and away from him, but he still kept a firm grip on his brother's shoulders. Looking at him, with complete sincerity he said,

"Lots of countries will notice your missing…" he said. "Lots. Not just me, but Britain and France and Germany and Italy." And of course Russia, but there was no way Alfred was including him in that list. "You're not invisible little bro…you'll never be invisible again, ok?" He squeezed his shoulder tightly, almost painfully to make sure he understood him. Alfred held his gaze, his blue eyes quite serious.

Matthew felt the corner of his mouth twitch as his brother stared at him with that serious somewhat melancholy expression. Matthew still wasn't used to his brother behaving in such brotherly ways. Alfred looked like he so desperately needed Matthew to know he wasn't invisible anymore. It was odd to see Alfred acting like the big brother he'd always claimed to be.

Matthew could really care less which one of them had come into existence a moment before the other. They'd always been a part of each other's lives. It really didn't matter who was older, but Matthew had always fought with his brother over the title of being the oldest because Alfred's nonchalant attitude and general silliness always made Canada feel like he was the mature one. Alfred had always offered to help Matthew in every situation, true, but Matthew was fairly independent and had never really needed his brother's help before.

Canada found his mind wandering for a moment. He had no idea how this situation had played out in the alternate time line. He was guessing that if his brother's future self hadn't come to his aide, things would be a lot different at this very moment, but he didn't dwell on the thoughts.

A smile came to the gentle nation's face. With Alfred acting this way he was finally starting to act just like a big brother he always claimed to be. Matthew had wanted to be closer to his family members for a long time now. Seeing his brother worried about his well being made Matthew feel like he really wasn't invisible anymore. Matthew nodded at his brother letting Alfred know that he truly did understand.

"I know Alfred. I know I'm not invisible anymore. "

The sappy moment may have lasted a bit longer, but Matthew blinked when he felt Prussia playing with the hood of his jacket. He turned from his brother to his boyfriend. Prussia pulled the brown hood of Canada's coat gently over Canada's head. It wasn't cold out, but Prussia was trying to hide his boyfriends beaten up face. He didn't want anyone to notice Canada's condition as they left. Prussia looked at Matthew sadly.

"Sorry you gotz hurt Matthew. I'll take care of you nowz. Letz get out of herez. America, we will zee you tonight, ok? I will go withz Matthew back to his room. Britain haz your phone, birdie. It'z outside wid him. Matthew text America when we get to your room zo he doezn't have to worriez." Prussia looked back at his own younger brother, "I havz mine phone. If you needz me you know where I'll be." Prussia pulled Canada's arm over his shoulder and with America and Germanys' help the two got to their feet.

As they started to leave the stairwell Germany could see that Prussia's hand was severely injured. The appendage was already severely swollen, and the bruise that had stated at his middle knuckle had extended passed his knuckle up into his fingers and midway down his hand, but Prussia drew no attention to it and neither did Germany. Prussia also didn't mention the fierce pain he was currently feeling in his left lower back. The pain in his back had started when he'd been tossed into the wall some time ago, but he ignored it all for the sake of his boyfriend and his tough appearance. Parting ways with their loved ones the two left the embassy building as quickly and quietly as possible, they met Britain outside and got Matthew's phone then left via a taxi.

Alfred, Ludwig and Feliciano watched Matthew and Gilbert head on down the hallway and toward the front of the building. After they were sure the pair was ok and on their way back to the hotel, they headed out of the stairwell and into the hallway themselves. It was time to get back to the meeting before they were really missed for long.

"Dat bruize on your face…are you allright?" Germany asked quickly.

"Yeah, it doesn't even hurt. It's nothing," America said, and he meant it too. He'd had far worse, and being a strong country, he was sure it would heal in a day anyway.

"All zee same, Russia 'as a few bruizes too. It'll be obvious you two fought. Ve should just neglect to meantion dat it had anythink to do vith Canada or Prussia." America waved Germany off a second time.

"Yeah, yeah. I know how to play things down. Don't worry man, I got this."

"Do you?" And it was Germany's tone of voice that gave America pause. Blinking, he stopped walking, then turned around to face the hardened country. His blue eyes narrowed.

"What're ya saying Germany?" And it was more of an accusation than a question. Still, Germany stood firm and didn't flinch under America's stare.

Italy was keeping oddly silent. But Germany knew perfectly well to as why. He'd never admit it out loud, but he knew damned well that Italy sensed his moods and his needs at all times. And regardless of what Germany thought about it, Italy always did what he thought was best for his partner. And at the moment, he knew he needed to speak seriously to America for a second.

"America," Germany started. "You've been acting quite differently lately. I know vhy, of course, but I think it'z becomink obvious to zee other countries. Dis could be dangerous for us." Alfred scoffed.

"Whatever dude. I don't think it's such a bad thing that I'm getting a little closer to my bro. Actually, I probably should have done this a long time ago."

"I agree," Germany said, nodding. "Unt if ve vere in any other situation, I'd say good for you, about time, but ve're not. Because our enemies are plottink somezing against us, it's very unwize for you to display any sort of weakness. To suddenly show signs of compassion over night is appearink strange to everyone. Russia unt whoever else may be siding vith him during dis time, may look at dat and try to exploit it. Dat and your blatant disregard for your own countries issues is raisink eyebrows."

Alfred winced as if suddenly slapped in the face. He quickly scowled, clearly insulted.

"Dude that's not cool! I _am_ concerned about my country! How _dare_ you say I'm not! I've got that damned fiscal cliff hanging over my head every second of the damned day! Do you think I don't notice? Just because I'm spending time with Canada doesn't mean I don't also have time for my duties! You know what? This is ridiculous! I don't have to stand here and get lectured by you! Up until last week, we hardly ever even spoke to each other!"

"Amerika, calm down! I'm tryink to help you!" Germany sighed heavily, his shoulders sagging. Perhaps America was even more stressed out than even he had realized. He knew America was a country that was very good at hiding his troubles. He paraded himself around as if everything were a party all the time. Even when things were dark and troubled for Americans they found a way to smile and have fun.

Germany, being a different country, never knew if they truly had this type of unbreakable spirit, or if it was a ruse created to not only fool other countries into thinking they were ok, but also to fool themselves from facing the bleakness of reality. But Germany had always thought, along with most every other country, that most of it was genuine. Alfred really did love to have fun, and smile, and make others laugh. So to suddenly see him so worked up was odd for Germany.

_Then again…we've never been friends before. Perhaps he only lets his troubles show for those close to him._ Whatever the case, Ludwig knew he had to finish his point.

"Alfred," And this caught America's attention for the simple fact that he wasn't sure if Germany had ever used his human name before. It was far, far more personal than what he was used to. "Alfred…I 'ave a bruder too. I'm also vorried. Very, very vorried about Gilbert. He's not a country like zee rest of us. He could get really hurt…"

America watched in amazement as he thought he saw a flicker of emotion cross the German's face. Ludwig was always so cold, at least so he seemed. Like a stone or a wall, his face was always completely unreadable. The only emotion Alfred had ever seen from him was frustration or anger. But here…this was the first time he saw something else. It immediately caught his attention and made him pay better attention to his ally.

"So…because ve both 'ave bruders, you can believe me vhen I say I understand. But because ve're bruders, ve 'ave to do vhat's best for dem. Right?" America nodded numbly in agreement, still a little shocked that Germany was showing him a more human side to himself and talking to him like a person rather than a country.

"So, because of dis, you should try to act more like you used to. Ve must protect Gilbert and Mattew from zee enemy. In order to do dat, ve need to vait unt see what Russia is planning to say to Gilbert. Ve can't let him know ve're onto him. So, vhen ve get back to zee meeting hall…I suggest you focus solely on your countries issues unt yourself, as you used to. Dis is zee best way to keep our bruders safe."

America was silent for a good long second or two. So was Italy, even though Alfred could see it was very difficult for the smaller country to keep his mouth closed about much of anything. He seemed ready to burst. But finally, after an obvious internal debate with himself, Alfred faced Germany and nodded. Then, flashing his usual grin, he lifted his hand and gave the other country a thumbs-up.

"Can do Ludwig," he said, returning the use of the human name instead of the country. "Now, we should bust the hell outta here! Everyone's gotta be freaking that America isn't at the meeting! Hahaha! They obviously can't start without me!"

Germany watched as the super power gloated, then turned his back and began marching down the hallway, looking as confident and as energetic as always. It was what Germany had been going for…but all the same…he felt a little sad.

Ludwig knew what it felt like to hide all of his real emotions inside. He did it every second of every day. He had to. He knew no other way to be. Ludwig didn't wish that for anyone else. And he'd wished to God that Alfred didn't have to now do it too. But for the time being…it was what would keep them all safe from Russia. All the same, he'd hated suggesting it to the usually carefree nation. Alfred was best when he was being himself, just like anyone.

Reaching up, Italy quickly wrapped both of his arms around Germany's back. Holding him from behind, he buried his nose in the stiff countries uniform. And then, in a much quieter voice than usual, he said,

"Ludwig…is-a-so smart, and-a-so brave…" As always Ludwig felt his insides warm at Feliciano's touch and his words. But the rush of emotion that always hit him when the other country got so close was always, every single time, too sudden and too startling for him to know how to handle. So, he reacted the way he always did, by blushing, then quickly shoving the smaller country away.

"Get off of me you schwachkopf..." But also, as always, Italy wasn't that easily deterred. He loved Ludwig, and he knew that what the hardened country needed most was affection, despite his sometimes harsh reactions to it. And so, grinning from ear to ear, Italy then proceeded to leap onto Germany's back.

"Augh!"

"Germania! Germania! Carry me to the-a-meeting hall!"

"Oi! Get off of me! I'm not a camel!"

But somehow, someway, even with all of the shenanigans, the three countries made it back to the meeting hall, even if they were grotesquely late.


	10. Ghost Nation

**Chapter 10**

Ghost Nation

The trip back to the hotel had been uneventful. Neither nation nor ex-nation talked all that much. Canada was tired, and Prussia seemed to be preoccupied. Canada assumed he was thinking about everything that had happened. Not in a mood to talk Canada rested his head against the window of the cab and stared out at the city as it passed by.

Canada noticed occasional glances from the cab driver. Most likely the man was trying to size up his two fares. Luckily, the cab driver never asked any questions, and in truth, Canada enjoyed the silent ride. The day had been long and stressful. He needed a moment of quiet and peace. It felt good to be out of the meeting hall.

However, the longer the trip lasted the more Canada was starting to worry about his boyfriend. It was odd for Gilbert to be quiet for so long... ever. It had been fifteen minutes since they had gotten into the cab, and the albino had yet to say anything. Canada silently wondered if Prussia was simply disturbed with having faced Russia. Gilbert had talked to his boyfriend once about some of the time he had spent being forced to live in Russia's home. Canada knew that facing the other nation wasn't easy for his boyfriend. He wanted to simply ask Gilbert if he was ok, but he didn't want to push his boyfriend into talking especially out in public like this. He decided to wait. If Prussia was still withdrawn when they got back to the hotel he would ask him then, in private.

Once back in Canada's hotel room the two walked to the nearest piece of furniture and collapsed after the traumatic events of the day. Prussia fell back against the couch cushions and not a moment too soon. He was glad for a soft place to sit. The trek to the room had taken far too long in his mind, and it had been far too exhausting. As soon as Prussia had laid eyes on the sofa he simply wanted to pass out on it.

Finally sitting down Prussia assessed how he felt, and he felt like he was going to throw up. He had tried to keep his growing pain hidden from Matthew, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. It had started as a sharp stab that had faded to a dull throb. It had started when Russia had thrown him against the concrete wall of the stairwell. Prussia had felt the pain in his lower, left side, and it had become increasingly more painful as time went on. His hand still burned and throbbed of course, but the pain in his side was making his broken hand feel like a paper cut.

He looked down at his swollen hand and tried to focus on it instead of the burning pain in his side. When he saw his hand he took note of his skin tone. His skin couldn't get any paler could it? He suddenly took note of the sweat covering his body. Prussia felt a tinge of worry welling up inside of him. This wasn't normal pain like he was used to. He tried to think of the last time he'd been injured, seriously injured. He hadn't had any serious injuries in ages. Not since he'd been a nation.

_What ze hell is going on?_ He thought to himself as a shiver shot up his spine. He felt his body start to tremble, but he fought hard to control it. He barely heard Matthew say something off to his side, but his ears were ringing. The words Matthew spoke were slurred as they reached his ears. Prussia couldn't understand what his boyfriend was asking, and the longer he sat the more disoriented he became.

Matthew had noticed a change in Prussia since they'd gotten in the taxi. Once away from the others Gilbert seemed to pull into himself acting withdrawn. The albino seemed quiet, and every time Matthew looked at him it looked like he was dazed. Still thinking it might have had something to do with facing Russia, Matthew waited until they were alone in the hotel room to ask about his boyfriend's state of mind. The wavy haired Canadian sat down beside his boyfriend and looked the albino over. That's when Canada took note of how bad Gilbert physically looked.

"Gilbert. Are you alright?" Matthew saw that Gilbert had his eyes closed. Prussia looked like he was concentrating hard at something. Then Matthew noted that his boyfriend was covered in sweat.

_Is he shaking? What the holy maple leaf? _Matthew reached out placing his hand on Prussia's shoulder.

"Gilbert. What's wrong?" Matthew saw that Gilbert had his arms wrapped around his abdomen protectively. Matthew zeroed in on Gilbert's left side where he saw Gilbert clutching at the fabric of his shirt and trying to subdue his pain in silence. Wondering what was wrong and if he could help Matthew reached out and attempted to place his hand on top of Prussia's.

Canada was completely caught off guard as his simple action caused his boyfriend to frantically swat him away with a feral scream of pain. Drawing in sharp, short breathes Prussia pulled at his shirt all the tighter. The simple touch from his boyfriend had caused the dull throb to radiate throughout his side, and it felt like his side was on fire.

Canada felt his eyes widen in both shock and horror. He jumped to his feet, but he didn't try to touch Gilbert in any way.

"Gilbert!" Canada cried. "What's wrong?" Gilbert found that he couldn't respond as he continued to clutch his gut tightly. Gilbert found that at the moment, he couldn't make his voice work. He was convinced if he opened his mouth he would only be able to scream in pain. As he lay on the couch Prussia's mind was screaming at him for another reason.

_I have to protect him. Get up zu uzelezz! Now iz notz the timez to layz down unt look weak._ Prussia berated himself, but he was stuck. He let out a shaky breath as the pain in his side continued to flare.

"Gott…" He managed a weak whisper.

Meanwhile, Canada was freaking out at his side. He had no idea what was wrong with Prussia, but whatever it was Canada knew it was serious. As such he pulled out his cell phone and dialed for the emergency services of the area.

The next 30 minutes seemed to happen fast. The time seemed to race for the terrified Northern country. The paramedics came rushing into the hotel room. Prussia's condition had only gotten worse by then. He had become unresponsive as he was loaded onto the gurney. Canada stayed by his side all the way to the hospital, then in the halls, and all the way to emergency surgery when he was told he'd have to wait outside. Canada stood in the hallway simply staring at the ER doors. He waited outside in the hallway his heart sinking with every minute that passed by.

Eventually a nurse came out saying Gilbert was in surgery. The Northern nation found his eyes filling with tears. He was barely able to contain himself as the nurse said that emergency surgery was being performed in order to repair trauma to the albino's lacerated spleen. She told Canada that they would inform him as soon as they knew more about the extent of the damage. After delivering the news she left, and Canada found himself alone for some time.

Eventually Matthew had gone to the waiting room of the hospital and taken a seat. He pulled his phone out and sat staring at it. It had been a while since he'd left the world meeting. The countries were already debating, talking, and arguing again in the meeting hall, no doubt.

He had to let Ludwig know about this though. Prussia was in surgery for maples sake. Matthew fiddled with his phone and quickly looked up Germany's number. Prussia had put it in his phone some time ago. After debating with himself for a few minutes he sent Germany a quick text simply saying,

'Gilbert has a lacerated spleen. In hospital. He is in emergency surgery. I will be here.' A moment later he texted the address and then sat back and waited. _Gilbert will be fine,_ he reassured himself. He would most likely be back at 100% by tomorrow. Still it was rare that nations had such trips to the hospital. It did happen, but generally only when extreme meds were needed to manage pain, accidents, or from severe injuries that were suffered from direct attacks on their land.

Was Russia really strong enough to do such a thing to Gilbert? Prussia had no direct connection with any land so Russia couldn't hurt him that way. How had Gilbert gotten so injured from a simple punch even if it was Russia who had done it? Canada's mind whirled as he thought about the situation and simply waited.

Back in the meeting hall, things were in full-swing even though they'd already gone over their allotted time limits. They were supposed to have adjourned thirty minutes ago, but everyone knew that wouldn't be happening. As always, things had disintegrated into chaos. For several minutes there'd been nothing but shouting. It had been up to Germany, as usual to restore order. Giving everyone more minutes to work with, they tried again to talk a few things out.

At least America was acting more like himself as Germany had suggested. But all the same, he couldn't help but to see the strain it put on the young country to hide his concern over his missing brother and to witness that in truth…no one else seemed to care that Canada wasn't there. He could see it only because he knew what a perfect front looked like, and America had one up right then.

"Dudes! I told you! Finances will be fine! The European market doesn't need to worry, and for that matter, they don't _always_ have to copy everything I do anyway!"

"Oh that's rich coming from someone who has a six trillion dollar debt!" One of the smaller European nations screamed across the table. And China immediately jumped on that bandwagon next.

"And you still owe most of that money to China!"

"Hey hey! HEY!" America shouted over the noise. "How fair is that? How many times have I lent money to all of _you_? Huh? And this one time, this one fucking time you can't give me some leeway? Luxembourg, you wanna cough up that 78 billion you owe me? Apparently China over here, can't wait a few fucking months, so I'm just gunna have to call in your debt now dude."

Poor Luxembourg, a tiny little country, shrunk back and shook his head, trying to hide in his seat at the end of the table.

"Oh that's nice America! Real nice! Make me out to be bad guy!" China cried.

The shouting continued and Germany was at the point where he was about to bark out orders again to get everyone to settle back down, but…that was when his phone rang. It was on vibrate, of course, he didn't want to interrupt their meeting, even if it was just a boxing match at that point. Picking the phone out of his pocket, he found he had a text message. Opening it up, he read it quickly.

As soon as he did, his heart fell out of his chest and landed in his feet. He felt his fingers and toes go cold.

_Gilbert…is in zee hospital?_

He wanted to panic, but he was too good for that. Germany knew their situation. He couldn't just call out to America and then have both of them leave together. That would be odd considering no one else knew that the two usually estranged countries were now, quite suddenly friends. But there was no way he could leave without telling him what was happening. Torn, he wasn't sure how to proceed.

That was…until Italy came up beside him. Having read his text message over his shoulder, and knowing exactly what Germany's problem was, the cute, little country smiled up at his protector.

"I'll-a-take care of it Ludwig, ve!" And before Germany could even ask what he meant or what he was planning, Italy turned to the room of screaming, fighting countries. Raising his hand he quickly shouted.

"PIZZAAAAAHHH!" Everyone froze, mid sentence it seemed, at the complete random, oddness of the exclamation. They were all looking over to Italy, America's fist still in the air as he'd been shouting some sort of accusation, and China with his finger pointed at the super power in mid-defense, all the other countries gaped.

"What?" One of them finally questioned.

"Ve! The meeting is-a-now adjourned! I'm-a-waaaay too hungry to continue without some-a-sort-a deliciousness! Besides, aren't we-a-all-a-late already?"

And with the mention of food, and because it was indeed late, a lot of the countries _were_ hungry. And with talk of pizza, and deliciousness, everyone's attention was quite sharply turned to their stomachs instead of their financial issues. And just like that, with grumblings toward each other, they started to pack up.

"Like stubborn America would listen anyway…" China was groaning. "He never listen to anyone but himself!"

"You got that right," America agreed. Everyone grabbed their jackets and briefcases, packing up any papers they'd used. And then the countries started to file out of the meeting hall doors. America had started to do the same, eager to get to his brother's hotel room to check on him when Germany called out.

"America, vait a moment." But he'd seen a few heads turn at the shout. It was odd for Germany to want to talk to anyone privately after all. "Err…ve need to discuss dat bit of business about your tourism in my country…" Germany quickly covered. It was enough to make any straggling countries lose interest, but it was enough to keep Alfred's. Still not the best at picking up on people's moods, especially not Germany's, America jogged on over to him while the others left.

"Sure dude!" He said cheerfully. "Are we not partying hard enough while we're on vacation? Hahaha!" Germany didn't respond. Instead he watched the door until all the other countries were gone…with exception of Britain, who remained by his seat, his green eyes glued to America and Germany. Germany nodded his way, letting him know it was fine if he joined them. And even as the older country started to walk over, Germany told Alfred the bad news.

Germany watched as the younger countries smile was stolen from his face. He paled, and within seconds he seemed like the same Alfred he'd spoken to in the hallway before the meeting began.

"Come on…let's hurry."

Germany, America, Italy and Britain all shared a cab. All four rushed to the hospital. And within minutes they were there. Running through the front sliding doors, America was in the lead. And as soon as he entered the building, he scanned the waiting room for his little brother.

It had been hours since Matthew had arrived. Canada had paced all the hallways on the first floor of the hospital. When that had failed to relieve his stress he had looked through the gift shop for anything that he could give his boyfriend. Still he was too stressed out to actually find anything. Mainly he just fiddled with the items and then sat them down. When he had tried the front desk again he had found out that Prussia was still in surgery, and he'd have to wait at least another hour.

As such Canada had retreated once more to the waiting room with a mood of utter distress. He had pulled his hood down and had forgotten completely about his own bruised face. When a passing nurse tried to help him he had tried to say he was fine, but the kind nurse insisted on checking him over. He asked for information on Gilbert, but he didn't get anything new. The nurse had been kind enough to go and get him an ice pack for his face though, and then she promised to tell him if she found out anything.

As such he had been stuck waiting for quite some time. He had slowly faded off into oblivion when the other four nations came into the waiting room. It was the quick movement that caught his eye and made him look over at his approaching family and friends. He didn't get to his feet. This day had just sucked too much to stand up. He had utterly lost the will to do anything but worry about Prussia.

America, spotting his little brother seated in one of the waiting room chairs, hurried over. Jogging ahead of the rest of the countries, he immediately asked,

"Bro! What's going on? All we got was a text message from Germany!"

Matthew looked over to Alfred. He didn't have any news to tell him, and that was killing him. Canada tried to explain what had happened in a calm voice, but he was panicked, and he couldn't hide his emotions.

"H-he was acting really weird when we went back to the h-hotel room. He was trying to hide it, but I could tell." He reached up pushing his palm against his forehead. "He was in so mu-much pain. I called the paramedics. They took him into surgery, but he's been back there forever, and no one will tell me anything! I-I don't get it! Russia's not that strong, right? Gilbert will be ok, right?"

It was the second time in the day that he found himself crying. He really hated this, but his boyfriend had looked so dreadful when he'd last seen him. Canada looked up at Germany as he approached, with a grief stricken face.

"He was bleeding internally. I'm guessing ever since the fight. I- I saw his hand too. I think he broke something."

Luckily just as Canada was telling everyone about the things he had observed a doctor came over to the group with a clipboard in hand. The doctor looked at the strange bunch who seemed a bit mismatched at best, but when he asked if they'd come in with the 'awezome' albino Matthew was on his feet in a flash.

"Yes! Yes! Where is he!? Is he ok?" The doctor nodded perhaps saving Matthew from the mini heart attack he was having. The doctor pointed down the hallway.

"He's awake in recovery now. The emergency surgery went fine. We sewed up a rip in his spleen. We were most concerned with blood loss, but we gave him a transfusion. He will pull through just fine. You can go see him if you want. He's actually-"

Canada had taken a firm hold on his brother's wrist as the doctor spoke about Gilbert's condition. As soon as he was given clearance to go see Prussia he was off. He held onto his America's wrist as he marched off down the hallway. After this hellish day he wanted his brother to be close. He needed the moral support of family, and he was sure Alfred wanted that too.

He practically ran into the recovery room where Prussia was lying in bed and currently cussing every other word as a nurse went about putting a cast on his hand. Even though his attitude was back his voice was still low, along with his energy level.

"Zeriously." The albino said in a quiet, slow tone, "You donz needz to do zhat. Ze awezome me needs no damn cazt." He looked over as the two North American twins barged into the room. A smile came to his drugged face. "Matthew. Unawezome." Gilbert smirked at the nickname he had given America and gave them a weak thumbs up with his good hand. The nurse attending to Prussia's other hand did something that made him cry out in a German dialect that no one in the room understood. A second later Gilbert saw his brother enter the room.

"West! Tell zis bimbo I don't needz 'dis zhit! I am the awezome Prussia, damnit!" Canada ran to his boyfriend's bedside, recovering from his hysterics much more quickly now that he saw Prussia was alive, talking, and relatively ok. Even if he was lying in bed with needles sticking in his arm giving him blood, plasma, and pain meds. Canada reached out gently taking Prussia's uninjured hand in his own.

Alfred was at Gilbert's bedside as soon as Matthew was, mainly because his brother was dragging him around like his stuffed bear. But…he didn't mind. And he was glad to see Gilbert was ok.

"You stupid ghost nation! You scared the hell outta Matt!" But he wasn't really angry, and in fact, Prussia would be able to tell that this was America's weird way of saying he was glad he was ok. "Now that I've put you in charge of taking care of my bro when I'm not around, you better think seriously about being tougher!" He clapped Gilbert on the shoulder, but not nearly as hard as he usually did. Even America could be mindful from time to time.

Britain had gone off to fetch tea for everyone, as such it was only Ludwig and Feliciano left standing in the doorway. Ludwig looked in on Gilbert, watching the three countries interact with a blank expression on his face. No one else would have been able to tell, but Italy saw very easily how upset Ludwig actually was. Perhaps it was the deep caring he had for Germany that let him see the ever so slightly paler color to his skin, or the beading sweat that was starting to form on his temples. Germany didn't move, or frown, or even breath more quickly than usual…but Italy had always been able to read his ice blue eyes, even when he wasn't looking at him.

He was worried. And he was in pain. Italy knew no one else would ever see it, or be able to understand it because Germany hid himself away so carefully and so thoroughly and in such an orderly way so that nothing from the outside could come in and bring him more suffering. Ludwig guarded himself more completely than the gates of Rome once had. He had built his walls and put up his fences and dug his moats and ditches and had done all he could to seal himself away, completely and forever; to ensure that no one ever got into his heart again. To ensure that he never suffered in the same ways that he had already been made to endure.

Italy knew him. Completely and totally. And perhaps he was the only one on all the earth who could look at his stone-cold face and his ice-blue eyes and truly see how much pain he was really in. Italy could see it clear as day…no matter how good he was at hiding himself away from everyone and everything. Germany even hid from himself. But there was a deep, despondent loss in him, an ache that never ceased. And as soon as Italy had seen it…he had dedicated himself to easing that hurt. And no matter how long it took, or how persistent he had to be, he was one day going to succeed.

Germany had suffered greatly, and deeply. The other countries had already forgotten, but Italy knew Germany had not. He couldn't. Because the hardship he'd had to endure had lasted so long, and had been repeated so many times, that it had eventually become a part of who he was. And so, Italy knew he couldn't change. But he didn't want him to. He loved him for who he was, even the sad parts. And he knew, the only way to make it a little bit better, was to make sure Ludwig had good, new memories to work forward from. And so, each and every day, Italy knew he'd be there for him.

And this was one of those many moments, when Italy knew he needed him.

Reaching up, the brunette gently rested his hand on Ludwig's shoulder. Ludwig exhaled slowly, then shifted his gaze to the smaller country. There, as always, he found him smiling.

"Gilbert's a-ok. Isn't that great news?" And Ludwig, in simply seeing Italy's adorable smile, and hearing his offered words of encouragement, did indeed feel a little better, even though he was terrified for his brother. The very corner of his mouth cracked upward, ever so slightly as he rested his cool eyes on his partner.

"Ja." And just like that, he found the courage he needed to enter the hospital room. Italy knew Germany was too afraid to get close to him in front of others, so as always; he reached out his arms and wrapped them around Germany's. Even when he stiffened from his touch, he knew perfectly well that this was what Germany wanted and needed, even if he might object in front of the other countries from time to time. This time however, he didn't say a word as the pair approached Gilbert's bed together.

Stepping up beside his older brother, Ludwig gazed down at him, his face still rather stony. All the same, Gilbert was perhaps the only other person on the planet who could read Ludwig. He did raise him after all. Gilbert may not have been as good at it as Italy…for no one could be that in tune unless they were in love, but he could at least tell that his little brother was worried for him.

"You schwachkopf!" Germany suddenly yelled. "Dis is vhat you get for gettink into idiotic fights vith countries who are bigger den you! You're not a nation anymore! You don't heal like zee rest of us!"

And of course, Italy only smiled. He knew, even if the northern twins didn't, that sometimes when Ludwig yelled, it was only because he cared and had been frightened.

Prussia rolled his eyes as his younger brother yelled.

"Kse. West. Stopz yelling in my ear. That arsch made my birdie fall down ze stairs. Whatz would you do ifz he had pushed Italy down ze stairz? You wouldz pummeled himz too." Matthew looked down at his boyfriend. He squeezed Prussia's good hand all the tighter. A look of worry quickly spread over the gentle nations face. He had heard what Germany had said, and the revelation shocked him.

"What does he mean you don't heal like us?" Prussia sighed settling onto the uncomfortable mattress.

"I donz healz like youz anymore. Whenz I get hurtz it takez long time now to get betterz. I have notz had any real injuries in longz time, but when I getz littlez injured it takez longer than it used to. I'llz probably havz a broken hand for the next few weekz. I will have to be on stupid bedzrest until my spleen heals. Iz ztupid, but I always thinkz itz because I am a ghost nation. I heal more onz human timez thiz way."

Prussia looked up at his little brother, "Geeze West. Donz act zo ztuffy." Prussia let a grin overtake his face. He recognized many of his brother's moods. He also knew when he could perhaps make his younger brother blush. "Youz got into plenty of ztupid fightz when you were a kid, bruder. I remember when you camez home crying that timez when you were little." Prussia's cocky smirk returned as he looked over at Italy.

"Do you remember, West? Italy did he tell you? He gotz in a fight whenz he waz a little thing. Gotz the snot beat out of himz. He came home crying to big bruder." Prussia chuckled at the memory. He never got to take care of Ludwig anymore. He missed that time. He used to be invincible in his brother's eyes. A frown came over his face…now he was a cripple in a hospital bed.

Germany scoffed as he set his teeth together. He sent an insulted look his brother's way.

"Ja, vell, vhen I vas a new country it seemed everyone in all da world vanted a piece of me! I don't ever recall havink a moment's peace!" Italy only seemed to hold onto his arm all the harder, squeezing him tightly. "Unt vhy are you tryink to embarrass me anyvay? Is dis da thanks I get for visiting you in zee hospital?"

It all seemed a little tense, and as America and Canada watched the German brother's interact, America couldn't help but to lean in a bit closer to his own brother and whisper,

"They're so weird. Our relationship is _waaay_ cooler than theirs."

Matthew jabbed his twin in the ribcage in order to hush him up. He didn't want to insult Germany or Prussia. Heaven knew Germany already looked tense.

"Ifz the awezome me really wanted to embarrazz you, West, I wouldvz done it by now." His fanged grin widened as he stared up at his younger brother. In truth he did have plenty of stories that would surely make the stern nation blush, especially with the North American twins in the room and not to mention Italy. He could have brought up bath times, bed times, dinner times, times when the blond haired child had refused to sleep by himself because of nightmares, and many other stories that had come from Germany's childhood.

Luckily he didn't. Prussia thought of those times fondly for a moment. He missed the little kid who looked up to him and thought he was the best thing in the world. Seeing Germany still looking so stiff Prussia let out a heavy sigh.

"Donz be so crankiez Ludwig. Ifz the hopzpital makes you uncomfortable you canz go." Prussia looked at his brother. A look of compassion came across his red eyes. He knew his brother cared deeply for him. Germany had proved that by letting his brother live in his home all these years after all.

"I didnz mean to upzet you. I am notz dying. Although there waz a momentz there…." Prussia shook his head at the memory. Just then the nurse finished with the cast which would hold his hand in place for the next few weeks. With a scoff he looked at his hand. He still had the tips of his fingers, but the hard cast extended from just above his knuckles all the way to his forearm. Prussia held up his hand looking un-amused.

"Shizer. What ze hell am I zupposed to do with thiz?" Canada looked from Prussia to Germany with a frown on his face.

"Let me get this straight. If he gets hurt, like seriously hurt…he will die? Permanently? So if I hadn't brought him to the hospital when I did he could have bled to death? Is that right?" Canada was looking at Germany intently as he took in this new bit of information. "I didn't know that. I'm guessing Russia doesn't either. Gilbert he can't see you with your arm like that. If he figures out you don't heal like the rest of us he could seriously use that to his advantage."

Matthew felt his grip tighten on his boyfriend. "The world meeting will last for a few more days. I don't think anyone will care if I don't show up. I'll stay with Gilbert." Canada looked back at his twin for confirmation of that plan. "No one said anything today, right?" He wanted to make sure Russia hadn't pointed it out that he was absent. Russia was the only one Matthew was worried about making a scene. No one else would notice, and for once that worked to his advantage.

Alfred glanced away from his brother, something like discomfort or perhaps sadness coming over his face.

"No…no one noticed…" he mumbled. "I think I made a big enough stink to keep everyone fighting for days…" Germany and Italy both nodded in agreement. America had taken Ludwig's advice and had run with it. No one at the meeting was the wiser with America distracting everyone so expertly. The world was far more concerned with the prospect of America falling into a double-dip recession. If that actually happened, it would screw over everyone else's finances as well.

Of course, Alfred had little fear that would actually occur, but it was certainly a topic worthy enough of getting everyone to focus on something other than the secret problems the handful of countries were trying to keep hidden.

"But…now what do we do, dudes?" America asked. "I thought the plan was to let Russia talk to Gil here, so we could find out what his plans were. If we're trying to hide his injuries, then…he can't talk to Russia until his hand heals."

Canada shrugged his shoulder and looked back at his brother.

"I don't think he can leave the hospital anytime soon Alfred. He's not healing on our time any longer. They probably won't release him for a few more days at least."

"Gah!" Prussia scoffed and jerked his head to the side looking away from everyone. "Dis blowz. I canz get up. I canz hide my hand or something. I wanz to tell that smug bastard that I hope his house burns to the groundz."

Canada turned back towards his boyfriend then. A very stern look on his face.

"You can't do that. If he hits you or shoves you or bumps you, you could rip your stitches. You're supposed to be on bed rest. I just rushed you to the damn hospital. I am not taking any chances on this."

"Well." Britain said from the door as he came back in with a stack of Styrofoam cups in hand. "If Gilbert can't do it there has only been one other person Russia's shown any interest in contacting. You'd have to come back to the meetings tomorrow Canada, but I don't fancy the idea of sending you anywhere near Russia alone. He was obviously using you to deliver a message to Gilbert from what I understand. You could confront him about it and try to question him further." Britain said hesitantly.

He knew America was about to blow a fuse, but he'd had to say it. If anybody else approached Russia about any of this it would be suspicious. Canada on the other hand had already dealt with Russia one on one. He would have every reason to confront Russia on the things that had happened earlier in the day and to also have Russia explain himself further about this 'message' of his. Britain sat his pitcher of hot water on the table and went about adding a tea bag to all the Styrofoam cups he'd brought in.

"No. No'z way in hellz iz that a good idea!" Prussia cried and at the same exact moment, America screamed, "No fucking way Arty!" Matthew on the other hand looked like he was thinking about it.

"Donz you dare, Mattie! Donz you even thinkz about it! This is the most unawezome thing I have everz heard!" Prussia shot a glare Britain's way.

"Right on Gil! This is so stupid! You're supposed to be the smart one Arthur! Don't you see what happened after one meeting with that psychopath? Matthew was shoved down the stairs! He cracked his damned face open! It took me and Gil together to take that sucker on! And even then, Germany had to come in and break us up! If he didn't, Gilbert could've-!"

And quite suddenly, he cut himself off. Matthew or Arthur may have seen a quick and sudden wave of guilt wash over America's face, but he quickly stuffed it away. He wasn't going to let that type of thing drag him down now. He hadn't known Gilbert could get so seriously injured, or he wouldn't have ever roped him into the fight in the first place.

"Anyway, there's no way in hell I'm gunna let my little bro go face that monster again! Who knows what he'll do next time! So no. No fucking way. If someone's gotta go, then _I'll_ go! I'm Canada's brother. I'd have every right to question Russia too!"

"Nein, Amerika," Germany said quickly. "Ve're tryink to keep you closer to your original personality, remember?"

"Dude, I'm freaking losing my patience with this entire thing! If I wanna be a big bro, than I'm gunna be a big bro! I can't just…just…pretend like I don't care!"

"We have appearances to keep up Alfred," Britain said. "I'm glad that our family is getting closer together. It's about time, but the changes are attracting attention to yourself and your brother. We have very few options here. Matthew what do you want to do?"

"I can do it." Matthew said, voice unwavering, "I'll go to the meeting tomorrow and confront him again. It would be the easiest answer. Don't worry Al. He can't hurt me… permanently anyway. I'll be ok."

But America did _not_ look happy. They were lucky there was no table around, because America looked like he was ready to ram his fist through one.

"No! I don't fucking care if it's _permanent_ or not! A broken bone is still a broken bone dudes! So what's your ingenious plan to keep him safe Arthur, huh? Send him in there all alone? I guess I'm not allowed to even go with him, since I fucking _care_ too much! God! This is a bunch of bull!"

"I just started thinking Alfred. Give me a moment." Britain said as he continued making his tea. Matthew turned to look at his stressed out brother. He reached out gently ruffling up his brother's amber waves of grain.

"Alfred. I'm glad you care so much. You're great big brother. You really are. Don't worry. I'll be fine." It was Matthew's first time relinquishing his claim on the older brother title they had fought over since forever.

That actually caught Alfred off guard. He was so used to saying "big bro" and 'little bro" their entire lives and having Matthew resist such a thing. It was odd to hear him agree for once.

"Yeah…" he mumbled, clearly not knowing how to handle his brother being agreeable for once on the subject.

"So, uh…while Arthur thinks up a plan, should we discuss sleeping arrangements? I mean, the three of us were gunna bunk together in a room right? You me and Gil here. Is it…just gunna be you and me Matt or…are you staying here with Gil?"

"Yourz not leavingz me here." Prussia said firmly, "Thiz iz da worst place to be." Prussia elbowed the bed underneath him.

Canada sighed heavily as he looked at his brother. He didn't have to use that twin power of his to tell that what had happened today would give his brother nightmares later that night. Alfred had just lived through one of the repeating nightmares he had been experiencing since future America had come. It was going to affect him later. It was already affecting him. Canada could tell his brother was more wary with him. Alfred hadn't even complained that he was still holding his wrist.

"Well." Canada looked from his boyfriend to his brother, "Uhm. Gilbert you can't leave yet, but I don't really want to leave you alone either big brother." Matthew smiled. Now that he'd said it, and Alfred was really acting the part, the words seemed more natural.

Prussia could see his boyfriend's conundrum easy enough. As such he quickly thought of a plan.

"Lizen I will be finez here. Ludwig can ztay." Prussia volunteered his younger brother's services without a second thought. "Matthew. Go home and rest up. Take carez of unawezome. He lookz like he'z got more ztrezz than me." The selfless act didn't get by Canada who smiled down at his boyfriend. He leaned down and kissed him gently on the lips.

"I'll be back tomorrow. See you then Gilbert." Then he started to walk towards the door of the room. Matthew was ready to fall out himself, so he was eager to get back to his hotel room and go to bed.

America wanted to object, so, so, soooo badly. Everyone was talking like he was some sort of…of…child or something that needed to be taken care of! It was infuriating! He was America damn it! And he was the toughest, baddest, most awesome country around! Seriously! Everyone knew it too!

But…as he started to leave with his brother, he immediately felt better knowing he'd be in a place where he could keep an eye on him. And Gilbert would be perfectly safe with Germany. He liked the arrangement, and so…didn't argue.

The two twins left, along with Britain, and Germany and Italy stayed behind.

This left Prussia staring up at his brother. He waited until the North American twins had gone and with an utterly serious voice said.

"West. Go getz me tha beerz."

As soon as Prussia extended a request for beer though, Germany quickly crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nein. Vhat a stupid question. You're in zee hospital. Even if I didn't think der'd be any harm, I doubt the doctors vould allow such a thing."

…And there is Chapter 10. So what happens in the next chapter? Will Canada confront Russia alone? We will have to wait and see.

Reviews and Critiques are always welcome! Both Artiluna and Spotofpaint enjoy creative input! Hope to have Chapter 11 up soon!


	11. Exploiting America

**Chapter 11**

Exploiting America

The night rolled in and eventually it became late. Germany and Italy settled down together on the second bed in the hospital room. Prussia, more than used to their adorableness, didn't think anything of it as Feliciano curled up tightly with his partner, snuggling his face into Germany's shoulder and neck. Casually, Ludwig laid his arm around him, and even with the stress of the day, both fell asleep quickly, and soundly since they had each other's company.

The North American twins, however, didn't have nearly the same peaceful evening. When they first went to sleep, they'd taken separate beds, America insisting that he needed his space and that Canada was getting on his nerves. But the night went almost exactly as Matthew had predicted.

America had still been having nightmares as it was, and the horror of the past day certainly did nothing to help dispel them. Tortured by visions of long, stretching, never ending, lifeless hallways, where all he did was run and run, screaming for a brother who he was sure no longer existed, or perhaps was lying dying somewhere where he couldn't find him, woke him up more than once in the deep of the night.

Finally, after the third nightmare, he clambered out of bed. His pride stripped away by the relentless fear, he stumbled across the room and over to his twin. Without a word, he climbed up and onto the mattress with him. Throwing his arms around his brother, he clutched him tightly to himself, burying his face in his curly hair.

He didn't say anything, and Matthew didn't need to either. But finally, with the scent of his twin in his nose and the warmth of him beside him, he was able to get some sleep without the repeat of the same dream again.

Finally, the morning came, and it was time for the meeting. Germany and Italy got ready in the hospital room, using the bathroom to change and brush their teeth, and the North American twins got ready in their hotel room. The pairs of countries left their respective rooms together. Then all of them headed to the government building.

Britain was bickering with France on the front steps of the building when the North American twins arrived. It was a common sight and the twins simply walked over to their arguing fathers.

"Papa. Dad. How are you doing today?" Matthew greeted the two. Canada's face had healed during the night. As such he looked completely back to normal. France had been fairly busy glaring at Britain, but when he saw his son he let out a trade mark laugh and went to Matthew throwing his arms around Canada.

"Mon petit Matthieu! How have you been?" France squeezed Matthew tightly picking him up off the ground by a few inches. Britain glowered in the background.

"Would you drop him, Frog!" Britain walked over to America looking at him. It looked like America had managed to get some rest at least. Britain looked around and then addressed his son, "America, did you work out anything on your fiscal cliff?" Britain had always conversed with America at these meetings so the two of them together was nothing new. Which was good considering they were trying to keep up fronts.

"Papa. You can let me go. Really." Matthew tried to pull away from his French father, but when France didn't let him go. Matthew just sighed, "Papa. We should go up to the meeting, right?"

"In a minute." France had been told about all that was going on. He really didn't want Canada near Russia, but he understood why this was the plan. He just hoped nothing would happen, "Keep your phone on you, Mattheiu. Ok?" Matthew nodded.

"Ok Papa." France smiled at Canada and pulled him towards the building.

"Let's go Mattheiu. You can sit with me today."

Canada laughed nervously at that arrangement, "Oh joy!" Matthew looked back worriedly at his brother as he was dragged into the building. Once they were gone Britain faced America a very stern look on his face, "Let's go America."

America winced once again at the mention of the damned fiscal cliff. It was a tender subject, and it was really all they were talking about during the meeting. All the same, he knew it was something he was just going to have to deal with.

"Thanks for bringing that up again Britain," America grumbled. "And no, congress hasn't reached a decision overnight, as you very well know! They're still fighting over whether or not to raise taxes on wealthy American's. Until we can agree on that, nothing's going to move forward. Damn." Huffing, he followed his family inside.

"Did _you_ come up with a way to keep Matt safe during _his_ meeting?" He jabbed accusingly.

Britain reached out taking a hold of America's arm. The gesture halted his son and made Alfred look at him. It was exactly what the British gent was planning. Ahead of them France pulled Canada into the elevator and the two were alone as the doors closed.

Britain had planned on separating the North American twins here. It would be better in the eyes of the world if they entered the meeting hall separately like they had done many times before. Britain didn't say anything else. As soon as France and Canada were gone he started off for the elevator motioning America to follow. Alone on the elevator Britain knew he'd have to tell his son the truth about this plan, but now wasn't the time.

"France is telling Canada what to do at this exact moment, Alfred. I'm going to stick with you today." Britain hadn't come up with any ingenious idea during the night. Canada was just going to have to face Russia. They would have to meet alone. Britain knew Russia would make sure they were alone, or he'd just decline Matthew's offer to 'converse'. It was going to happen. Unfortunately, America would just have to deal with it, but knowing America would freak out if he told him there was no additional plan, Britain put on a poker face.

"You just act normal. We have this under control. Your only part of the plan is to just be your old jackass self. I'll handle the rest."

In the meeting room Canada sat beside France and waited for the meeting to start. He looked around the room and saw Russia staring from across the room. The ice nation was smiling again. _That's so unnerving._ Matthew thought to himself. He steeled himself for the day ahead. France had reassured him in the elevator that everything would be fine. Matthew knew that they couldn't follow him, or Russia would be suspicious, but France promised if anything seemed wrong that they would be at his side in a heartbeat. It was a flattering gesture. Canada had agreed with the plan. He would ask Russia during the lunch break to speak with him. Then he'd have to see what would happen. The meeting seemed to fly by and when lunch was announced and Russia got up to leave Canada followed.

He didn't look back at France, America, or Britain as he left.

Britain made sure that America didn't go running after his twin. The only real plan Arthur had was to wait around in the front lobby and make sure that if Russia did leave the building Canada wasn't forced to go with him.

With the room clearing out Britain motioned the other two nations towards the elevator. They waited around the entire lunch break, but wherever Russia and Canada had gone they never saw them again. It was probably in this time of waiting that America became aware of the fact that his father had no master plan for Matthew's meeting with Russia, and they would just have to wait.

An hour later, it was time for the meeting to restart...still no Canada. Francis had tried calling his son, but Matthew never picked up. Britain was doing his best to keep Alfred calm. When they went back upstairs the other nations were walking in one by one, and Russia was already seated in his normal seat. Still no Matthew.

It wasn't until Francis called his son again that Matthew's phone vibrated and played the French national anthem on the table in front of Russia. Russia looked down at the moving electronic, his smile never leaving his face. He scanned the room and saw Francis on his cell across the room. He took note of the shocked look on Francis' face. Since Russia had heard the French national anthem he assumed that France was calling Canada. He waved at the nation across the room. Slowly he rose from his chair and walked the phone over to France,

"Oh Comrade Francis. This phone belongs to Comrade Matvey. You can give it back when you see him, da? He dropped it when we were talking."

Francis paled a bit as he was handed the outstretched phone. He was quickly starting to worry. The one thing he'd told his son was to keep the phone on him at all times, but here the thing was. Francis immediately knew they had no real way of finding Matthew without it.

"Wh-where did you talk to him?" Francis asked quickly.

"Oh. We walked all over building, da. I do not really remember." Russia smiled, "Sorry. I'm sure he will be back soon, da. Maybe comrade Matvey got lost. No?" Russia looked over at America with his purple, watchful eyes. He was waiting to see what America would do with the meeting about to start. Britain was pulling on Alfred trying to get him to sit at their table. He quietly whispered to his son that he'd think of something. Not to worry. He would make a plan.

America's heart was already racing. His feet were like ice. His chest was tight, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. His hands trembled as he broke out into a cold sweat. For a long, torturous moment, he simply couldn't move.

Arthur was supposed to come up with a plan to keep Matthew safe. Alfred had never wanted him going to see Russia alone. He'd been dead set against it from the very start. And now here they were; his nightmares and fears once again becoming a stark reality. It seemed like everything he did was a waste. Nothing he said, nothing he ever did seemed to make a damned difference. It didn't matter how close he stuck to Matthew…he _still_ couldn't protect him.

And now, no one knew where Matthew was. _Has Russia kidnapped him already? Did he…shove him into a box or a bag and ship him off to Russia? Has he hurt him? What if he seriously hurt him, and left him lying somewhere…bleeding? _

Alfred's fingers curled into fists as his trembling increased.

_I won't fail! I can't fail him! I promised myself when I had died that I'd protect Matthew! I promised Matthew to his face, repeatedly that I'd keep him safe! _

"Alfred," came Britain's voice. The older country reached out, putting a hand on Alfred's arm in an attempt to calm him down. He was clearly about to freak out, and Britain wanted to do all he could to keep their cover in the crowded meeting hall, "Alfred, the meeting is about to start," he whispered. "Everyone's looking…just…calm down and take a seat."

America grit his teeth together, a snarl coming over his lips. And then, quite suddenly, he lashed out. He shoved Britain violently aside and away from himself, causing the smaller country to stumble backward and into his chair, which hit him just beneath his knees. It caused him to fall, knocking not only his chair over, but France's as well as he collapsed to the floor. Several of the other countries gasped at the sudden violence, erupting between two countries that were usually close and friendly. America stood over him, his face red with betrayal and anger, his fists still trembling.

"I'm not going to just sit in my fucking seat and do _nothing_!" He screamed. "And I will _not_ calm down! You were supposed to keep this from happening! You lied to me! You fucking _liar!_" The other countries gaped. Immediately they started whispering amongst each other.

"What on earth is that about?"

"America and England are usually so close."

"A family dispute?"

"What do you think he means by 'keep this from happening?' Is he talking about the fiscal cliff?"

"What did Britain lie about?"

"I dunno…"

But Alfred could have cared less about the buzz he'd just created. He was far too terrified to care about anyone other than his brother. And so, after screaming at his fallen father, he turned and ran for the meeting room's door. The other countries gaped.

"Where's he going?"

"This meeting is about his country's finances! He can't just leave!" But he wasn't about to stop. With a slam, he pushed open both swinging doors. And in another heartbeat he was gone, racing down the buildings hallways all over again, just as he'd done the day before, and just as he'd done all night long in his nightmares.

The meeting room was in a frenzy. And as everyone chattered amongst themselves, a few countries banded together to discuss matters. China and North Korea casually walked over to Russia. Keeping their voices low, but there really was no need since the room was now very loud with speculation, North Korea leaned in to the largest country in the world.

"You were right. America's losing it. But why? Why's he suddenly so afraid for his twin's safety? He never cared before. Did something happen that we don't know about?"

"Could Canada be sick?" China suggested. "Perhaps North American countries are trying to hide something?"

"Either way…it's looking like we might be able to easily exploit America at this point, our most powerful enemy. Great job Russia, it's just as you said."

Germany kept a firm grip on Italy's shoulder as the meeting went to hell. As observant as always, he carefully watched the other countries react to America's outburst. France was now helping England to his feet, and…the three countries they were really worried about had assembled. He couldn't hear what they were saying from his position, but it hardly mattered. He could tell by their expressions that they were already plotting how to use such an obvious weakness to their advantage.

_Verdammt!(Damn)_ He thought woefully. America was too much of a firecracker to be able to carry out the advice Germany gave him the day before. _I should have known as much. Now we're in serious trouble. _Germany wanted to go and discuss things with France and England, but knew he couldn't get involved. He couldn't run after America either. Germany knew full well that if this entire thing went to hell, which it was appearing to do rather quickly, then he didn't want to be associated with the American countries. His priority was to keep himself, Italy and Prussia safe. And the best way to do that was to remain calm, and not be seen interacting with any of the involved countries.

_Things are unravelink quickly...the best I can do is keep Gilbert unt Feliciano safe..._

Even so...he couldn't help but to feel for Alfred. Ludwig wasn't sure if he wouldn't have reacted the same exact way if it had been his brother instead. And…despite any efforts to hide it…Germany had seen how the super power was starting to unravel at the seams. He was suffering. And Germany always recognized when someone was suffering, even when other's didn't. He felt the urge to help…but…

Ludwig glanced down at Feliciano who was looking out across the chaotic room. He could see the worry on his sweet face. Germany only gripped the smaller countries shoulder more tightly.

He wouldn't risk Italy for anything. And so…friend or not…America was on his own.

Alfred raced down the empty halls. His dress shoes slapped against the cold tile beneath him as he went. The florescent lights moved over and above him, and down his back as he ran. Completely panic-stricken, he wheezed from the effort. His chest was so tight, his heart so heavy with dread that it was a wonder he was able to run at all.

The nightmare continued, as it always had, only this time it was real. Matthew was gone. He had no idea where he was. He probably wasn't even in the building anymore.

Alfred imagined horrible things. Maybe his little brother was tied and gagged and in the back of some truck. Maybe he'd been beaten to keep him from resisting. Perhaps he'd been drugged, or stuffed into some sack, his wrists and ankles duct taped together.

What would Russia do with him?

Alfred let out a desperate cry of distress down the empty hall. There was no one around to hear him, or help him look for his little brother. It was as lifeless as it always was. The stone walls were as cold as ice, and as always…all the hallways were empty.

Alfred felt like he'd crack. He felt like he could just lose it completely, right there and then. He knew that if he couldn't find his brother…he'd just go crazy.

"_I…I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! Please! Please forgive me little brother? I thought I could protect you…keep you safe but I…I couldn't! And I…I didn't know what was happening until you were gone! And once you were gone, I…I couldn't find you! I searched everywhere! I'm so sorry! Please believe me? I tried everything but I…I was too late!"_

Future America's words echoed in his head like a ghost. He remembered his bloodied-tear stricken face. He remembered that look of broken grief in his one good eye. He remembered how he had clutched Matthew to himself in desperation.

At the time, Alfred hadn't seen how he could change so drastically. He hadn't believed that he could ever become that America from the future. But now…racing down the lifeless halls, the doorways never ending, the search never over…he could see it. He could see very easily how he could become like that soldier.

"Oh my God…" he wheezed, his breath wispy and void of any strength he once had. "Please…please no! Please God! Don't take my brother from me! Matthew!"

His vision blurred as he turned the next corner, running blindly and without destination. Something warm rolled out from behind his pounding eyes and down his pale cheeks. He slapped at the tears on his face mercilessly, trying to get them out of his way so he could see.

"Matthew!" He called again. "Please! Please answer me! Please be here!" His heart galloped within his chest, powerfully. It sent waves of fire through his veins. He was convinced that if he didn't find his brother soon, his heart would simply explode from the pain and the power behind his terror.

"Matthew!" He screamed again. _**"Matthew!"**_

"Well damn it all." Britain muttered while France helped him up off of the floor. Now things were out in the open. America looked like a deranged loon, and Britain knew the terrible trio was aware of the fact that Alfred was being seriously overprotective of his little brother. He shot a look over to the three countries he was most worried about and then quickly looked away.

_Damn_. They were all together and obviously conversing. Britain said a silent prayer; hopefully they had a year left until the three nations across the room tried anything like what future America had warned them about. He straightened up his jacket and stared off at the door where Alfred had vanished. Obviously America's tirade had helped nothing, but it wasn't like Arthur could blame Alfred for the commotion.

He lowered his head in shame. This had been one of the worst laid plans ever. He said a second prayer for his quieter son. _Please let Matthew be safe. If he's gone, _But Britain couldn't even think through that possibility. If Matthew was gone there'd be a war. Even if it was Alfred fighting all by himself.


End file.
